The Depths
by Capitansalazar
Summary: Funny how fate tends to bring two lonely souls together. But what do a prideful Spanish Captain and a woman imprisoned aboard a pirate ship have in common? Armando Salazar X OC
1. Chapter 1: Marcela

Gentle waves lapped against the sturdy side of the Maria Silenciosa. It would have been a relatively peaceful day for the crew of the infamous ship had they not run into another band of hapless pirates. And as always, the Mary had managed to get by with not much more than a scratch. The pirate sloop, however, had seen much better days. The mast had been broken by one of the Mary's cannons. That ship and crew weren't going anywhere.

Captain Salazar stood watching the crew of the defeated ship beg for mercy at his hands. However, as per usual, the proud captain would have none of it. He craned his head slightly, ordering his men to fire with intent to kill. The Captain was about to stride away when the voice of Lieutenant Lesaro rang out.

"Wait! There's a woman in the water!" Lesaro called to Salazar in alarm. They had never come across anything like this before.

"I have no time to care for a whore on my ship," the captain said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Please! Please I'm not a pirate! They've captured me and I'm injured! Please help me, I beg of you," a feminine voice chimed out among the roar of the waves and desperate cries of the pirates surrounding her.

The captain paused and seemed to consider this for a moment. He had the provisions. Perhaps he could take her to the nearest port and leave her there. Then he could feel good about not ordering his men to slaughter a woman who appeared to just be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, mulling the thought over for a moment.

"Bring her up," Salazar commanded with his back still turned to the scene before him.

With a mighty heave, the crew of the Silent Mary hoisted the woman aboard the ship... but she was no woman... Gasps could be heard by the entire crew as not just any woman but a siren with stunning iridescent scales lay upon the rough boards of the deck until she'd dried out enough to walk on land again. Her fin was torn making escape into the depths of the sea impossible. She could hardly swim at all. No, she needed to heal and she couldn't heal where she couldn't find food and rest.

"What is she...?" Murmured another member of the crew. At this, Captain Salazar turned around to see exactly what was causing his crew members delay in ridding the world of the pirate scum floating below. His mouth hung open slightly at what he saw before him.

Her skin was ivory as though it had not been kissed by sun once in her life and her hair was dark as the night sky and lay splayed out around her. It was long and full and surely beautiful when not weighted down by blood and water. Salazar approached the gorgeous creature and looked into her eyes as blue as the sea. She was afraid; afraid enough to seek rescue from strangers who had attacked her only moments before.

"What is your name?" Salazar asked, pulling off his coat and placing it around her shoulders.

"Marcela..." The siren whispered back in wonderment. She had never known kindness like this before. She pulled the overcoat closer around her shoulders. It smelled nice... like spice and the sea. It smelled comforting and like home.

"Welcome aboard La Maria Silenciosa."


	2. Chapter 2: Ebb and Flow

Captain Armando Salazar was definitely an intimidating man who had a reputation which preceded him. As he strode away from the woman, he paused to think. She was injured. She needed to see the ship's surgeon. He wasn't used to this. Of course back in Spain there were plenty of women to woo but not out here. He wasn't sure what to make of all this. And he needed time to think about what he was going to do about the situation he'd put himself in.

"You will escort her to Barros and for the love of God find her some clothes," Salazar barked to the closes officer who just happened to be Moss. Moss nodded stiffly. Of course he found the strange woman attractive. Who wouldn't? She could pass for a goddess in any culture. But it was highly improper. How was he going to get her to see the Doctor Barros without... handling her? She could barely stand on her own.

The first thing that Marcela noticed upon being helped to see the ship's doctor was that he kept his vessel in immaculate shape. Everything seemed to be perfect which she was unfamiliar with. The men that she'd lived with almost all her life had been unruly and smelled. Most of them drank and were just generally unpleasant to be around.

She drew the coat that had been provided for her closer around herself. It didn't cover up much but she was still grateful for that show of empathy from the infamous captain. She'd heard horrid things about the man but from what little she'd seen of him, he seemed to be more gentlemanly than any of the pirates she'd been living with.

A very red-faced Officer Moss had helped her up and sat her down in the small cabin where the surgeon stayed. She could barely support any weight on her right foot. It appeared to be broken but Marcela didn't know anything about that. She hadn't really walked much before.

Doctor Barros, an older man with a kind face and salt and pepper hair that was more salt than pepper anymore took a look at her. He furrowed his brow and palpated her foot, earning a painful yelp from the woman before him. It had broken off, but he could see the edge of a large shard of glass embedded in her foot. She was lucky to still have it. The old man had seen many things during his time as a doctor but he had to wonder exactly how this sort of thing could have happened.

The old man sighed and pulled several instruments out of a pouch he had. Marcela's eyes widened and she attempted to scramble away from the man only the be caught and held still by Officer Moss who stayed behind to assure that she was alright.

"No no no no no! What are you going to do with that?!" Marcela cried as she struggled against the two men. All of this was so foreign to her and honestly those tools of that surgeon's looked scary. Barros just rolled his eyes at her and bade her to hold still so he could remove the shard of glass from her foot.

"There's glass in my foot?! Get it out! Get it out now!" She shouted at the surgeon who just sighed and handed her some rum. At the very least it would calm her down if she got drunk enough... he hoped. She looked at it quizzically before taking a swig and immediately spitting it out.

"It will help with the pain," Moss said, the frown he wore evident in his voice.

Marcela sighed and made a face before taking a fierce gulp of the offending amber liquid. It burned as it went down her throat. But then she started to feel warm and not at all unpleasant. Actually, she rather liked the feeling once the awful taste went away. In fact, she barely noticed as the doctor pulled out the large shard from her foot and set it aside with an audible plink. He bandaged it up with a relatively clean linen.

"That wasn't bad! I don't know what you were so worried about!" Marcela slurred up at Moss with a grin as he helped her up. She would likely have to use a crutch until she could bear weight on that foot but the old surgeon was sure that it wouldn't be too very long. She was drunk. That much was evident.

"You were the one that was worried!" Moss couldn't help but chuckle through the embarrassment he felt with having his arm wrapped firmly around her to support her. Of course he knew that the young woman would likely be feeling the pain later but for now, she seemed to be alright. Now all that he needed to do was maybe try and find her some clothes. After all, she could hardly parade around in nothing but Captain Salazar's coat. Perhaps there was something acceptable laying around somewhere. It seemed as though he was stuck with the strange siren... at least for the moment.


	3. Chapter 3: Reflections in the Water

He was handsome, Marcela was sure of that much. And he was clean. Everything about him was just... perfection from his dark locks to his chocolate brown eyes. She wished she could examine him closer but alas, she was stuck sitting on the deck far away from the dashing captain.

The siren tore her eyes away from him to gaze out at the sea. It had been so long since she'd seen it and even longer since she'd enjoyed the freedom it provided. The waves seemed to call to her in a way that was nearly irresistible. One day she would behold the sea again... but it would not be that day. She ran her fingers through her long ebony hair. She wasn't aware that when it dried, it curled. It was delightful but it did tangle. She couldn't help but smile. Captain Salazar blowing up the place she'd called home for so many years was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Look at her! She had walked and met nice men and even made a friend! Marcela had never had a friend before. All of this was so new and exciting and she didn't want it to end because if this was what humans such as the crew of the Silent Mary could help her discover, she knew she wanted more. Surely there was so much more out there.

Marcela gazed back up from the tumultuous waves and back to the captain at the helm of his magnificent ship and found that her eyes met his. He seemed surprised and turned his head away from her so quickly that Marcela had to wonder if she had imagined it. The mind could be a powerful thing, she supposed. After all, they were worlds apart. He was a pirate-hunting Spanish Naval Captain and she was well... a glorified fish.

Her brows knit together. She needed to thank him for this. For showing her some semblance of freedom instead of ignoring and killing her. She pulled the pristine white coat with the many marvelous medals from around her shoulders and folded it as nicely as she could though she didn't really know how. It took her some effort to stand even with the crutch Doctor Barros had provided her. However, she was determined to make it up those steps to see the captain. It definitely took her a moment, but she persevered.

The men before her gave her quizzical looks and some even looked a little worried for her. Salazar stepped from the wheel, allowing Lieutenant Lesaro to take over for just a moment. He was curious as to what the siren woman could possibly want. but instead of a request, she held out his jacket for him.

"Thank you, captain. I am in your debt," She murmured just loud enough for him to hear. Captain Salazar took the coat from her. His hands were warm and calloused with years of labor. In his eyes was so much more than just brown. It was like a sky of stars waiting to be discovered. Marcela let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. This felt awkward. Salazar said nothing but held her eyes for a moment longer than he'd intended to. It was as though time had paused for a moment and the rest of the world fell away. She was beautiful; infinitely so. But he had a job to do and she was definitely not a part of it. He needed to get her off this ship before that spark he'd felt evolved into even more than a spark. He would have to remember to chart a course to the nearest port where he could be rid of her. He didn't want to... but he knew that he needed to.

"I appreciate your hospitality," She smiled a little though turned slightly red when her voice cracked. She was nervous. That much was for certain. And why wouldn't she be? She'd never met such kind people before even if they'd just murdered a whole ship of men right in front of her. Marcela felt like this ship could be her home if she were so lucky.

The siren turned her back on the captain and he returned to the wheel. The prolonged eye contact between the two was not lost upon Lieutenant Lesaro. He hadn't sen his captain look at anyone like that before. And it worried him. Perhaps bringing this siren on board was a bad decision. Lesaro gave his captain a sideways glance as Salazar stood at the wheel. The lieutenant genuinely hoped that there was a way to be rid of her. Fast.


	4. Chapter 4: Candlelight

Lanterns were lit and the skies were darkening, but the night sky did nothing to diminish the Silent Mary's beauty. She was a magnificent ship no doubt built by some of the best shipwrights in Spain. For a man such as Armando Salazar being the famous pirate hunter that he was, would have nothing less than a beautiful spotless ship. Said captain stood in front of a mirror tidying himself up. He wasn't exactly sure why he was making such an effort, though. He told himself that even dining alone, he would have shaved and made himself presentable. Armando straightened his coat and took one last look at himself. He had questions for this siren which he intended to have answered one way or another. Though he was a gentleman, he was in no uncertain terms persistent in all his endeavors.

The floorboards creaked signalling the arrival of his guest. He turned to greet her and frowned slightly but not because of her appearance but because he had ordered Officer Moss to attend to her. He would have to have a word with him in private later.

Marcela's porcelain skin and cerulean eyes seemed to light up the room. She'd gotten slightly burned by her first day out in the sunlight. It was a bit painful though she'd been assured by Moss that it would go away in due time which relaxed her somewhat. She was wearing a pair of brown breeches and a white billowy shirt. It was hardly suitable for her and the feeling of the fabric between her legs was less than pleasant mostly because the breeches were rough hewn and scratchy. The shirt was nice, though. She liked how it flowed in the wind. Even so, she was picturesque enough to catch the captain's eye. His hazel orbs rested approvingly on her slight form.

"Come come. Sit." Salazar commanded, breaking the trance between the two. Marcela blinked and hobbled her way over to sit in the chair provided for her. Armando pushed her chair in and then went to sit down himself. It was dark inside the captain's cabin. Little light was afforded by the candelabra between them. It was a little bit disconcerting to the raven-haired siren.

"Please tell me the tale of how you came to be incarcerated by pirates. I would like to hear it," Armando said before taking a hearty bite from a green apple. He seemed to be partial to them as she had seen him eating them a time or two since she'd been welcomed aboard. Her heart dropped. These weren't questions she really wanted to answer because she didn't quite know the answer herself.

"I... I don't know," Marcela murmured, gazing down at the plate of fruit and bread in front of her. it was a simple meal but more than she'd eaten in awhile so she was grateful for it. She looked between him and the food for a moment, wondering what sort of manners were expected of her. Armando only nodded which was enough incentive for her to dig in hungrily.

"I remember the sea and feeling free. But that was many years ago. My memory of it is not very good. For most of my life, I have lived in a glass tank just big enough to fit in," Her brows knit together at the thought of her former prison. She hoped she would never be subject to anything like that ever again.

Armando leaned back in his chair, chewing the apple he'd taken. He looked mildly concerned with her tale. He'd never heard of anything such as this. Though, mermaids were considered to have magical abilities. Some even thought they held the key to the fabled Fountain of Youth. However, Armando had no use for anything like that. He did not seek immortality. He merely sought to eradicate the sea of pirates and nothing more; but certainly nothing less.

"What would they want with you?" He questioned. His hazel eyes searched her face for any sign that she wasn't being wholly truthful with him but he found nothing. He found that he was beginning to feel bad for this woman. Perhaps they had more in common than he originally thought possible.

"I have no idea what they wanted with me. Perhaps they thought I was good luck. Perhaps they sought the way to the Fountain of Youth. I don't know," Marcela was quiet for a moment before she spoke up again, "You hunt pirates, yes?"

"I will wipe them out of existence," Armando nodded sternly.

"I wish to help you. Allow me to repay you for saving me. There are things that my kind can do that men cannot."

"That is out of the question," Armando scowled.

"And why is that? Because I am not a man!?" Marcela scowled back, challenging him. She leaned forward in her cushy chair and placed her hands on the table before her, "I belong here just as much as you do! Pirates took everything from me!"

Armando was not expecting this. He'd never been challenged by anyone before; much less a woman. It confused him especially because just hours earlier she'd been begging to be saved and so thankful for it. Perhaps he'd gotten the wrong impression of her. Though... this didn't put him off. It actually interested the Spanish captain even more. Nobody had the gall to stand up to him before. He'd never seen a spark in a woman's eyes like hers. It was fiery and exciting in ways that he hadn't experienced back home.

"You will find that I am not as easily swayed as land women. I have lived most of my life alongside that scum and I know how they think. I know how they work. You may be persistent but I am patient, Captain Salazar. And if you throw me overboard, I will come back. Like it or not, you could use someone like me. I may not understand land men and formal mannerisms but I do understand pirates. And I want them all dead."

"How could you possibly have anything to offer? You cannot even walk, much less swim," Armando objected.

"In due time, captain," Marcela countered. She used her crutch to stand and hobbled back out of the cabin leaving the Matador del Mar dumbfounded.


	5. Chapter 5: Lesaro

Lieutenant Lesaro was not at all happy to say the least. Especially as he watched the siren woman hobble angrily out of the captain's cabin in which she'd been invited to dinner. As ethereal as she was, she had an unfortunate lack of manners which couldn't be helped as she had grown up around pirates. Lesaro sighed to himself and frowned. She was distracting the captain from his goal. He gazed at her from the spot he'd been sitting at near the helm of the ship.

He could see a storm on the horizon and couldn't help but think of how unfortunate it would be if she were to somehow fall overboard and be sucked under the rudder of the ship. Then, his worries about her disrupting their job would be over. He smirked slightly at the thought. Nobody would ever know, and the captain's focus would be on hunting pirates. Lesaro had seen the way they'd looked at each other. There was some sort of attraction there, though he wasn't exactly sure to what extent.

They were all curious about her. And why wouldn't they be? There were legends about sirens who sang their beautiful songs in order to draw hapless sailors close so that they might drown them in the sea. However, until he'd had the misfortune of dragging her on board, he'd regarded these tales and exactly that. They were myths. His brows knit together. Would she be able to swim? She'd been able to keep herself afloat... mostly.

No... this plan left too many loose ends. If she somehow survived then she would know someone pushed her overboard and there was no telling how the captain would react to that. He chewed on his lip, thinking to himself. Perhaps he could stab her. That would tie up any loose ends but then there would be the issue of the blood. There had to be a clean way to do this which ensured she was dead... or maybe he didn't need to kill her. Maybe he only needed the captain to throw her off the ship.

However, that seemed easier said than done. Captain Salazar seemed to be rather enthralled with her. Well... perhaps enthralled was too strong of a word. He was interested, that was for sure. He scowled slightly. He would have to think about this.

Perhaps he could poison her, but where would he come across poison? Their next trip to port would be weeks away if that. And where would he find poison on land? He pulled his eyepatch up and rubbed his left eye.

He could wait until she was at the bow of the ship and then slit her throat and push her over. The rudders would make quick work of her... not to mention the barnacles. It was gory and rather bloody but he couldn't sit idly by and allow this to keep its course. Lesaro watched as Marcela huffed and plopped down a ways away from him. She seemed angry. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all. But he would have to gain her trust it seemed if he was to eradicate her.

Lesaro stood and paced over to the disgruntled woman and sat down on a barrel across from her. She slowly gazed up at him, a look of utter frustration on her face.

"It is unwise to challenge the capitan," Lesaro suggested.

"Well if he would listen to me, then I wouldn't have to challenge him," Marcela scowled, crossing her arms. Lesaro had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe they were a perfect match for each other as they were both stubborn as mules it seemed. And evidently she wasn't aware of the customs of humans though he supposed it only made sense. Those that had incarcerated her could barely be described as human. He was honestly surprised that she was as well off as she was.

"I wish to thank you all for saving me. I wish to aid you in your endeavor to hunt the pirates," Marcela frowned, fiddling with the loose sleeves of her shirt. This surprised Lesaro. He hadn't expected anything like this. But it couldn't change his plans. She was a distraction, even if it was her intention to help them.

"Women have no place at sea-"

A loud crack sounded across the deck as Marcela struck Lesaro across the face. She scowled at him and stood from her spot across from him.

"I am no woman."

Marcela marched off with as much dignity as she could muster with limited use of her leg. She felt tired. She had a big day and was sure that the next one would be as exciting as this one. Perhaps they would find pirates and those Spanish imbeciles would see that they could use her. After all, the voices of sirens were entrancing.

Below deck, she found Officer Moss having dinner with his fellow shipmates. They seemed startled when they saw her which was confusing. Were they talking about her or was she just so unfamiliar that they hadn't expected her sudden clumsy appearance.

Moss had taken note that Marcela seemed irritated. It was no doubt Lesaro's fault. Lesaro had a habit of being disagreeable at times though he was arguably the most faithful of the men to serve on the Silent Mary. He was about to get up to show her to where she would be sleeping when she unexpectedly grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. She was surprisingly strong for such a lithe thing.

"I need you to help me. I want to stay. I want to help kill pirates. But they do not see what an asset I could be. He will listen to you, I think more than he will listen to me. You will help me?" She asked as soon as she had gotten him out of earshot of the other officers who were enjoying their simple evening meal.

This surprised Moss even more that she wouldn't want to jump back into the ocean as quickly as she was able. He'd figured that she had a family out there somewhere because mermaids didn't just appear from nothing, right? He had to agree with her. From what he'd heard about sirens, she was right. She could be a powerful tool under the Spanish Navy to eradicate the pirate menace.

"Alright... I will help you. But Captain Salazar is a hard man to change. And an even harder man to reason with once he has made up his mind. But I think you are right. We could use your help whether or not everyone agrees."

It was so dark below the deck. Only lit with dimly glowing candlelight. He could barely see her, but he wished he could because he wondered how she looked when she smiled. Moss let out a surprised yelp when he felt her throw her arms around her in thanks.

"You never told me your name..." She murmured into his crisp overcoat.

"Antonio Moss..." He mumbled back. Antonio hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. This was severely inappropriate but he found that he almost couldn't help himself. Her appearance was arguably the most exciting thing that had happened in a long time. It couldn't have been coincidence. He was certain she was meant to be there. The only problem was that he wasn't quite sure why.

"Antonio, I am very tired. I would like to sleep but I don't know where," Marcela breathed as she stepped back from the man before her. She could see him even in the darkness. His nose was a little longer than was flattering for his face in her opinion and he did have a rather large forehead. But he was endearing and exactly what she needed in a friend.

"Everyone got together and we've provided you with a space. It would hardly be appropriate for a lady to sleep with the crew," Antonio said, guiding her to a more secluded area of the ship away from the noise of where the crew slept. It was simple, but more than what she was used to. There was a hammock behind some barrels. Someone had even forfeited a small mirror and brush for her to make herself presentable with.

"It isn't much but-"

"It's more than I've ever had before..." Marcela whispered in grateful astonishment.

Antonio found himself going red again. The single candle burning in the little makeshift room was enough to illuminate her face. She was so innocent and perfect in a way that women on land didn't seem to possess. Her naivety was endearing and he found himself wanting to preserve that. She would be safe on the Silent Mary. He would make sure of that.

"Goodnight, Antonio," Marcela smiled a little, urging him to leave her so that she could rest.

"Goodnight, Marcela," Antonio took the hint and made himself scarce. He would have to think of a way to persuade the captain to let her stay. That seemed easier said than done...

Marcela closed the sheet that had been pinned up as a partition between the rest of the ship and her own little slice of heaven. She hobbled over to the hammock and set her crutch aside within arm's reach. It took some practice to get into her new bed but after a few minutes and a few close calls, she finally settled in and let her eyes slip shut. This was the first day of the rest of her life. She just knew it.


	6. Chapter 6: Proving Grounds

Marcela jolted awake to the sound of cannon fire. Though it wasn't something that she'd never heard before, it still startled her enough that she fell out of the hammock she'd been sleeping so peacefully in. She groaned and pushed herself up into a sitting position. The ship was rocked once more and yelling could be heard even below the deck where she'd been so rudely interrupted.

"Filthy pirates..." Marcela grumbled to herself before reaching for her crutch to help herself to stand. It was a painful endeavor but she was spurred on by curiosity and the knowledge that this could be the only chance that she would have to prove herself to Captain Salazar. After taking one quick glance at herself to make sure that she was at least relatively presentable, she made the trek above deck only to be stopped by Antonio.

"What are you doing?! You should not be up here!" He chastised her, trying to usher her back below deck. However, Marcela would not be swayed. She simply pushed him aside with a scowl and a grunt. She steadied herself for a moment as Officer Moss was not exactly small. He'd imbalanced her slightly. But her determination was more potent than anything that might stand in her way. Antonio made to grab her arm in one last feeble attempt to bring her back below deck but she wrenched her arm away from him.

"You will not stop me. This could be my only chance," Marcela murmured as she continued on. The thick Spanish accent of the captain could be heard barking orders over all the yelling and cannon fire. The Silent Mary had seemed to hit a snag... said snag happened to be the British Royal Navy.

"Tell the men to cover their ears," She continued to Antonio who hurried off to the captain first. He had a feeling as to what it was she had planned as she stepped up to the starboard side of the ship. All around her, men stuffed bits of cloth in their ears- or their fingers. Anything they could get to really. The commotion seemed to stop for a moment as the enemy ship had realized there was a woman aboard. They weren't quite sure what to do and for that fraction of a second, everything was silent. And then, Marcela began to sing.

It was a pleasure she hadn't had in many years. Everything came to a stand still. The men on the British ship had their full attention on her. It was as though they couldn't take their eyes off her. Armando smirked slightly. He had caught up to her plan and he knew exactly what she was doing. She was distracting them long enough to turn this little battle around. He couldn't hear her but he had to imagine that her voice was as perfect and ethereal as she was.

Armando wanted to be angry at her for interfering in this naval battle but she had aided them greatly. Cannon fire continued from the Silent Mary as Marcela sang to the British soldiers across from her. And by the time that they had realized their fatal error, it was far too late. Their ship was going down. He pulled out the handkerchief he'd stuffed in his ears just for a moment. It was foolish but he wanted to hear her. And it took his breath away. His mouth hung open slightly. But then the music stopped.

An incredible urge overcame Marcela and she found herself leaping from the railing of the ship and into the waves below. She felt a thirst for blood which she hadn't felt so strongly in years. The familiar feeling of the cool, salty water surrounded her. It was soothing and if she hadn't been on the hunt, it would have been a peaceful reminder of home. Her pale hand reached out and grabbed onto the foot of a soldier who had been scrambling to stay out of the water and she pulled him down with her.

The soldier stared at her for just a moment at her soft features and cerulean eyes. However, his slight feeling of comfort changed when he saw her jagged teeth. The man struggled to get out of her vice-like grip to no avail. She leaned in and ravenously bit into him. The man let out a silent scream in pain that only came out in the form of bubbles that rose to the surface.

However, before she could get her fill, strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her away from the man she'd been snacking on. Marcela let out a feral frowl and turned to take a bite out of whoever it was that had been audacious enough to rip her from her meal but she stopped. Before her was Captain Salazar. Everything seemed to come back to her in that moment. She felt warm and right though she didn't understand what exactly had happened or why she was in the water with Armando Salazar.

Above them, the ship's crew were calling for their captain. Why had he jumped in after the siren? It was completely uncharacteristic of him. Armando wasn't sure that he understood it himself. Had it been just about anyone else, he wouldn't have bothered. But there was something special about Marcela beyond her being inhuman.

A rope was thrown down for them to climb up with and they wasted no time getting back up onto the ship. This left both of them with more questions than they were prepared to deal with. A blanket was almost immediately thrown around her shoulders. She wasn't exactly cold though it was a nice thought.

"What you did was foolish!" Armando barked once he'd come back to his senses. He scowled down at her and trudged off to his quarters for a fresh change of clothes. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to hear a reply. This all scared him more than he liked to admit and not because she wasn't human. It scared him that he was finding that he didn't want to drop her off at port as he had originally planned.

"Why did you do that...?" Antonio asked, helping her up.

"I don't know... I don't remember jumping in," She murmured back as he helped her down below deck. He was sure that he was going to have an even harder time convincing them to let her stay.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Lesaro was over the moon. This was exactly the kind of display that he'd needed to show the captain that she didn't belong there. Everything seemed to be going according to plan.


	7. Chapter 7: Truth

Marcela had been moping for a good few days after the strange encounter with the captain. He had been avoiding her, or so she thought. And she didn't like it. She wasn't quite sure what had happened to her during that battle, but that didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact that Armando had been able to pull her out of her trance-like state. The other crew members of the ship had been avoiding her, too. Well everyone except Antonio. And while that was comforting, Marcela wanted answers.

Her long fingers fidgeted nervously with her long dark locks as she sat on the deck while everyone all around her were busy doing their own individual jobs. She felt even more useless than before. She listened intently to the sound of the men and the waves crashing into the Silent Mary in an attempt to distract her self. Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot that she could use.

The captain was at the helm again. Marcela grit her teeth, feeling a little lost and perhaps hopeless. What was this pull she felt when she was around him? She'd only ever felt it once... and it had brought her nothing but pain. Her eyes were cast down at the floorboards as she thought about it. She felt the bitter prickling of tears in her eyes and worked hard to shove that feeling deep down inside of her. More than once, Marcela had reminded herself that she was a creature of the sea and not meant for this sort of life. But she had nowhere to go anymore.

Suddenly, the sunlight she'd been basking in was blocked by shadow. Marcela brought her gaze up and was surprised to meet the hazel eyes of the captain. He looked mildly surprised for just a moment before he schooled his features. He could have sworn that she'd been crying.

"Walk with me," he held his arm out for her to take. Armando told himself it was because Marcela still had a little bit of trouble walking though she was more able to bear weight on her injured foot. But he was also being a gentleman. It just came naturally to the dashing Spaniard.

Marcela hesitantly took his arm and stood with much less difficulty than even just the day before. She had to wonder what it was that he wished to talk about. Perhaps he was about to tell her that they were nearing a port and would be dropping her off there. The thought made her heart sink.

"Your tale confuses me," Armando finally said when they reached the bow of the ship.

"It confuses you?" She asked quietly. Of course there were going to be more questions asked about things that she'd rather not talk about.

"You say you do not know how you came to be imprisoned. I think you are lying," He continued, giving her a sidelong glance. Marcela's heart sank even more.

"You will tell me the truth if you wish to stay aboard my ship."

Marcela bit her lip. He was giving her little to no choice. Of course it wouldn't be a big deal. The only thing she'd been hiding was heartache... and yet still she didn't want to talk about it. The metaphorical wound that had been left had been healing but was still tender.

"I knew a pirate long ago; a boy named Hector. I thought he was a gentleman, someone I could trust. But he was greedy beyond measure. I thought surely he had limits. I let myself be blinded to his greed. I came to care deeply for him. I soon learned that no amount of gold was enough to sate his appetite. He learned there was a group of men- pirates who sought the Fountain of Youth. He gave me away for a handful of coin. They stuck me in a box filled with water for safe keeping until they found the island. There was no use singing to them because that wouldn't get me out... I succumbed to the idea that I was going to die. Then you and your crew inadvertently saved me. I thought I had to repay you and when I found you were hunting pirates I thought what better way? I could get my revenge one pirate at a time until I had the pleasure of dragging Hector down to the depths of the sea to Davy Jones' locker where he belongs," Marcela recounted her haunting story.

Armando listened patiently to her and found himself empathetic to her tale. She had conviction, that was for sure. And they had quite a bit in common as far as being wronged by pirates. He peered out at the horizon and took her hand in his. It was soft and cool to the touch. It was highly uncharacteristic of him in any situation to show affection. But he felt for her and was finding that he wanted her to stay.

"We will hunt pirates," He nodded at her with conviction, ignoring the look of shock on her face. Before giving her time to process what he'd said and done, Armando strode away. He had a ship to run- and he was also slightly bewildered at his actions. And by the look on Marcela's face, so was she.


	8. Chapter 8: Dirty Deeds

He'd touched her hand and it left her absolutely awestruck- and not only because she'd never expected a man like him to do something like that but that it made her heart skip a beat and her face flush. She shuddered slightly and shook her head in an attempt to get a hold of herself. Marcela had been standing at the railing of the ship where Armando had left her for quite awhile. She'd made it a point not to give into the temptation to glance back at where she'd imagined he would be and continue watching the waves crash into the ship.

This feeling was all too familiar and left an aching in her heart. But what was she to do? If she really wanted to, she could just jump overboard and swim away. But there was something that needed to be done about the pirate menace of the sea and she was more than ready to have her revenge. Her hand curled up into a fist at the thought of Hector's betrayal. If it took the rest of her life, she was going to make sure that no good, dirty, rotten pirate got what was coming to him. He'd handed her away like a shiny trinket for no more than a bag of coin.

The sun had begun to set low over the horizon. The stars were partially blocked by large clouds which held the eminent threat of a storm. However, that didn't bother her much. The Silent Mary was a large ship and she doubted that it would capsize though in all honesty she didn't know much about ships. Marcela wrung her hands. She had much to think about. Not only was she confused about Armando, but there was the matter of her eating a British sailor which nobody seemed to talk about, at least not with her. Armando didn't seem phased by it, which she wasn't sure what to think about either.

It had felt natural and rejuvenating. It was instinct for her which was strange to her. She supposed it was a part of being a siren. Whatever family she'd been born of wasn't much more than a distant memory, faceless silhouettes which she'd imagined to be her mother and father. Perhaps they were still alive, or perhaps they were long gone. It didn't make much of a difference to Marcela. For the vast majority of her life, she'd lived alongside the land people and had learned to feel at home with them. Being with her own kind seemed as though it would be foreign and unpleasant to her as she had no idea what they would be like.

As Marcela was thinking to herself, she hadn't realized that the deck had cleared out of just about everyone. She was standing alone- well, mostly alone. A lone figure with an eye patch had been watching her from the shadows.

Lesaro knew that if he was going to go through with any one of his many plans to be rid of her, it would have to be in that moment. It wasn't often that she was alone as the captain or Moss were with her the majority of the time. If he was lucky, she would be pulled under the ship and the barnacles would rip her to shreds and sharks would be attracted to the mass of blood. Then they would tear her to pieces. There would be nothing left and the captain could forget about her. They would all forget about her and move on.

His footsteps were near silent as he crept up on her. What would he do? He couldn't stab her. All he had was his rapier and the captain would surely notice if his was missing. He was meticulous that way. He picked up an oar for one of the rowboats as he was sneaking up. With swift crack, Marcela was on the floor out cold. Lesaro scrambled to lift her body up and toss her over the bow of the ship. Hopefully that was the last that he would see of her. The oar was placed back in its rightful spot but not after he'd cleaned the blood off it and disposed of the rag.

Lesaro strode away with a smirk on his face. This had been too easy. He felt accomplished. Perhaps he would have a little wine to celebrate a job well done. Now they could get back to important things such as killing pirates.


	9. Chapter 9: The Abyss

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Everything felt so calm and quiet and right... but it wasn't normal. Instead of the sound of waves and men rushing about, there was nothing but the lone call of a whale in the distance. Marcela's eyes fluttered open. She expected to see her little makeshift room lit dimly by the glow of a single candle. But instead before her was a vast blue abyss. She stayed there in a daze for a moment before it hit her- quite literally. She remembered standing at the bow of the ship and then feeling a sharp pain at the back of her head and then there was darkness./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Marcela slowly came to her senses. The Silent Mary was disappearing fast and if she didn't catch up soon, she would never see any of them again. So she began swimming in an effort to catch the fast ship. After the first few minutes, her fin began to hurt. Of course it was still injured. Her silvery scales glinted in the soft glow of the moonlight and if she hadn't been in a panic to reach the Silent Mary, this experience would have been rather freeing as she hadn't had the chance to enjoy to sea since being freed./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Just as Marcela thought that she would never reach the ship, her hand wrapped around a thick rope that was conveniently thrown down for her. She gazed up the hull of the ship and to the railing and realized that she had to have been the luckiest woman on Earth at the moment. At the railing stood Antonio. Marcela breathed a sigh of relief as she began climbing up. The task was difficult without the use of legs but eventually with the help of Antonio, she flopped onto the deck with a sigh of relief./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;""I saw you trying to catch up with us... did you fall over?" Antonio asked as he rushed over to her./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;""No... I was thrown over..." Marcela murmured and forced herself into a sitting position. She wasn't sure if she should be telling anyone this information as she wasn't sure that anyone would believe her... but Antonio was her friend, right? Surely she could trust him. But could she really trust anyone?/span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Antonio's brows furrowed. Who would do such a thing to her? He bit his lip, thinking about who could possibly think she was enough of a threat to want to eliminate her./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;""We need to bring this to the captain's attention," Antonio said suddenly. He'd seen the way the captain looked at her. There was something there and if anyone could put a stop to this, it would be him. He scooped her up as she hadn't dried off enough to walk. She blinked and was about to protest but thought better of it. Still, she didn't really like being carried. It wouldn't take long before she'd be able to stand on her own./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Armando had been looking at his charts at his desk. He'd found that concentrating had become a more difficult task as his mind kept wandering to Marcela and how soft her hands were... If her hands were that soft, he wondered how the rest of her body felt. Those impure thoughts seemed shameful to him although it wasn't as if he'd never had thoughts like that before about a woman. Back in Spain he was very popular with the woman there. But honestly, he had no interest in most of them. They would agree with anything he said and barely had a mind of their own. Of course many of them were beautiful but held little to no personality of their own./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Marcela was different. She didn't hesitate to argue with him or tell him when she believed he was wrong... but she could also be sweet. He set his sextant down as it was evident he wasn't going to be getting anything done that night. He longed to run his fingers through her dark, luscious curls and feel her lips around his- Armando shook his head and took a deep shaky breath. This was the last thing he needed to be thinking about./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"His thoughts were interrupted, however, when a knock sounded at his door. What could anyone possibly want at an hour this late? Armando furrowed his brow and stood to answer the door. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head at what he saw./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Moss held Marcela in his arms and she didn't look very well at all. Her eyes were heavily lidded. She rested her head against Antonio's shoulder. It was evident that she was having a hard time staying awake. There was a steady dribbling of a dark liquid onto the floor which Armando believed to be blood. He ushered them in./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;""Bring Barros here. Now," Armando commanded sternly. Antonio gave a stiff nod and handed her off before rushing out the door to find the surgeon. Her blood was soaking up his crisp white shirt, which normally would have driven him mad but in light of the circumstances... He held her close, a look of worry evident on his face./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Her eyes fluttered open to gaze up at him. Everything was pretty fuzzy now that the adrenaline of realizing she was so far from the ship had run its course. She reached up to touch his face. It was warm and slightly rough from the constant whipping wind and the stubble that had been growing back from his most recent shave./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Maybe she was out of her mind, but he looked even more handsome than usual with his hair down hanging in soft waves. Marcela leaned up and met his lips with hers. Armando froze for just a moment. Was this really happening?/span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Against his better judgement, he found himself kissing her back. There was a spark which he'd never felt before with anyone. Armando didn't know exactly to what extent that his feelings for her went, but they were definitely there. His strong arms tightened slightly around her. It was even better than what he'd imagined. It was as though they were made for each other. Armando wasn't sure that he believed in that sort of thing, but he couldn't deny the perfect way she fit against him like a puzzle piece clicked into place./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Marcela let out a whine when he pulled back from her. She wanted more. She was about to lean up again to kiss him once more, but the throbbing pain in the back of her head became too much. Her head fell back against him as she let out a pained groan./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;"Armando scowled slightly. He could feel the blood from the back of her head mixed with the salty sea water soaking up his shirt./span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;" /span/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 15.12px;""I will find who did this," He vowed. His voice was soft as he spoke to her. This angered him beyond compare. He took the last few seconds before Moss returned with Barros to gently press his lips against her temple. Yes, there was definitely something there that wasn't there before./span/span/p 


	10. Chapter 10: Understandings

Marcela's eyes fluttered open and then shut again due to the pain that shot through her skull from the too bright light that shone through the windows. She let out a groan and covered her face with her arm. However, something was strange. She couldn't feel the normal rhythmic rocking that accompanied sleeping in the hammock that had been given to her. This was so much more comfortable than anything she'd ever had the luxury of sleeping on.

A warm hand encompassed hers. It was rough but not as large as she remembered Armando's being. Marcela gave one more attempt at opening her eyes. Before her sat Antonio. Though she was happy to have someone by her side, she was slightly disappointed that it wasn't Armando. Had that kiss been all in her head? After all, everything did still feel fuzzy. Maybe she had thought it all up in her concussed state. But it had felt so real.

"Where is he...?" Marcela asked, her brows knit together in concern. Antonio had to smile just slightly. He'd seen the way they'd been looking at each other when he'd come back with Barros. But after that, the captain had left without so much as a word. So Antonio had taken it upon himself to look after her. After what had happened the night before, he wasn't about to let her out of his sight. And he was a little bit disappointed that the captain didn't do the same. Perhaps something had happened. Antonio wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to pry into their business. He only hoped they would work through it.

"The captain left to get some air," Antonio murmured back, making up an excuse quickly. He knew her head must have hurt. Luckily, the wound wasn't very bad. It had bled profusely which worried everyone, but Barros assured them she should be fine given she had bed rest. He could see in her eyes that she didn't wholly believe him.

"Oh..." She whispered back. Her eyes were cast over at the door. Antonio knew that look in her eye. It was one of determination and there was no stopping her when she had made up her mind. She threw back the red velvety duvet and forced herself to sit up. Antonio made to gently push her back down, only to have his hand slapped away.

"And how long have I been asleep?" She asked softly.

"Two days..." Antonio muttered.

"And how long has he been gone?"

"...Two days..." He knew it wouldn't sit well with her. The captain hadn't been back once to check on her in all that time.

"I will find him." She snapped suddenly, standing on her wobbly feet. And there she went. Antonio internally chastised himself. He shouldn't have told her anything. He knew it would set her off.

"Marcela, you have no clothes on!" Antonio objected before she marched out bared before the whole world. Marcela stopped dead in her tracks, marched back and snatched the red duvet from the bed. She wrapped it snugly around herself and walked right out the door and into the sunlight.

There was a moment of pain before her eyes finally adjusted; and of course, her ankle was still quite painful, but when Marcela had a mind to do something, she tended not to pay much attention to anything that might stop her.

A few of the crew members, namely Lesaro stopped their daily tasks to gawk at her. It was as though they'd never seen a semi-naked woman covered only in their captain's red bed set before! She gave them an incredulous look before literally stomping up the stairs to the ship's wheel where she knew Armando would be. She just knew he was avoiding her. The nerve of that man! She'd nearly died and he'd just left. She understood that he had a ship to run but she'd thought they had something... unless she'd imagined it.

Marcela's hand collided with his cheek with a sharp smack. Armando hadn't even seen it coming. He was too busy staring at her. Surely she must understand what implications she'd made by barging out of his quarters in nothing but a red blanket wrapped around her! He stood there with his mouth slightly agape. What nerve she had! No woman had ever done such a thing to him.

"You avoid me! For two days!" Marcela accused with a scowl on her face.

Armando let out a little sigh. He should have left Lesaro with her. At least Lesaro wouldn't sympathize with her and tell her that he hadn't been in to make sure she'd been alright in all that time. But it was all the same. He knew that she'd hit her head very hard and after Armando had some time to think, he'd come to the conclusion that she didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't have been in the right mind and who was he to take advantage of a woman in such a vulnerable position? So he'd stayed away from her.

He pulled her aside and called Lesaro to the wheel to steer for the moment. Armando attempted to take her hand to steady her, though she just wrenched it back.

"Do you have any memory of what you did?" Armando asked quietly to her.

"Do you mean to ask me if I meant to kiss you?!" Marcela countered with a disbelieving tone. The crew was working though they were listening in on the conversation between their captain and the siren. This had to be the most interesting thing to happen in a very long time. Her arrival to the Silent Mary had turned out to be better entertainment than any show back in Spain.

"Yes, that is what I am asking," Armando nodded stiffly. The way her voice had raised was almost painful. He would prefer for his crew not to know about personal matters such as that. However, that wasn't what bothered him the most. He didn't like knowing she was upset with him.

"I do not regret it... I knew what I was doing... and I thought you did, too. I thought I could trust you. Are all land men the same?" She asked, her anger turning into hurt. Tears stained her eyes. She turned away from him as the realization hit her. There was no way they could work. They were worlds apart. Perhaps in another life...

"Marcela... I-" Armando was cut off by the sound of canon fire. There were ships approaching... a lot of them.


	11. Chapter 11: Battle Royale

They were surrounded. There were five ships that had managed to encircle them. They flew pirate flags. Marcela's stomach did a little flip and Armando's face turned stony. He wasted no time shoving Marcela to Antonio Moss' waiting hands.

"Bring her below. Lock her in if you need to," Armando ordered. A naval battle was no place for a lady... Antonio nodded slightly and threw the struggling Marcela over his shoulder. She was kicking and screaming. She wanted to stay and fight! When would they understand that she didn't need protecting?!

"Let me go! Let me go now! Antonio Moss you bastard!" She screamed at her captor in anger. Though, her cries fell on deaf ears. Once the captain gave an order, he was obliged to obey despite what he might think of said order.

It was a struggle to get down below deck and to the brig where he set her down and quickly locked the door on her. She could sing to him... but that wouldn't be right. He was her friend and it felt like a betrayal of sorts for her to try to manipulate him as such. Her hands balled into fists as he turned his back on her and ran back up the steps. When they let her out of there, Armando was going to get it... for everything. She slid down the wall and held her head in her hands. The least anyone could have done is thrown her a shirt but no she was locked away with a blanket wrapped around her.

The cannon fire got louder and the commotion around her became more heated. Marcela could hear the yelling and though she'd been through a battle or two, this was frightening. Drowning wasn't a concern of hers, though what if Antonio drowned? What if Armando drowned? What could she do to save them from her place in the brig? Nothing. She didn't like this. The familiar claustrophobic feeling of being confined to a box settled in and she began to feel hopeless.

Her brow furrowed as Marcela thought to herself. There had to be a way to get out of this cell. She looked around. On the floor there was a bucket but not much else. For once, she wished that Armando didn't keep his ship in such an obsessive clean state.

Up above deck, things were going well. Several of their attackers were in ruins and Armando was feeling quite proud of himself. He watched the chaos and flames surrounding him. This was his life's calling: to erase the world of pirates and all the scoundrels that sailed the sea.

It appeared to be safe. Armando sighed in relief. He knew she was even angrier with him for stashing her away like some prized doll but if something were to happen to her, he wasn't sure that he would be able to handle it. An intense fear overcame him that he would see her run through with a sword. And then what? She had become a part of his simple life. What would he do without her? Of course he would eventually move on, but he wasn't ready to face that possibility and not to mention the heartbreak. Armando knew he had to keep her safe even if it meant locking her away.

"Oh come on!" Marcela cried angrily. There had to be something! If being around these Spaniards had taught her anything, it was to be proactive. There was a way out. There had to be. Just when she was about to give up and wait to either die or be let out, a cannonball came crashing through the wall. She ducked her head, hoping that it wasn't destined to hit her. After a few seconds, she lifted her head back up. It had busted a hole in the ship's hull right where her cell was.

Marcela smirked. Luck seemed to be on her side. She tied the blanket around herself, hoping it would be enough to adequately cover up her body, and she began the dangerous climb up to the ship's deck. The cannons that stuck out the hull were perfectly placed to use at footholds, but they were scalding on her feet. However, Marcela was persistent. She had to dodge a few cannonballs that came sailing from the enemy ships, but aside from a few burns and some splinters, she reached the railing of the deck unharmed.

Her head poked up and she took a quick look around before scrambling over the side. For the moment, nobody seemed to notice her. They were all focused on the one last ship that had miraculously survived the Silent Mary's onslaught. There was a boy standing on the ladder up to the crow's nest. He was shouting something.

"Surrender to me now and I shall let you live!" The boy called. Marcela frowned a little. She didn't quite like how cocky this boy was. It was as though he believed himself to be bulletproof. No, she did not like it one bit. There was something wrong with this. They were taunting them. They were baiting them!

Marcela peered in the direction the pirate ship was sailing and her eyes widened. It was the Devil's Triangle. Surely Armando wouldn't be impulsive enough to follow him. Surely he would see the signs and know that they were trying to get them to chase them. She glanced up at the helm. He was taking the bait.

"No... No Armando no!" Marcela cried, trying to force her way through the chaos around her. Men were running back and forth everywhere. She shoved them away, moving as quickly as she could toward the helm. If she warned him fast enough, there would be time and they could escape their grisly fate.

Armando wasn't sure if he should be angry or surprised that she'd escaped as he watched her scale the stairs to get to him. However, the thought wasn't on his mind long. He had to kill every last pirate on this insolent ship... especially the boy who had the audacity to evade him! Armando didn't particularly give a damn where they were leading him so long as he got to slit the boy's throat himself.

The raven-haired siren threw her hands on the wheel as well and pulled against the captain. Armando turned to her with a scowl and a mind to backhand her... though he held himself back.

"I have tolerated your insubordination up to this point. But no more. Lesaro!" Armando called.

"No! No you have no idea what danger you are putting us all in!" Marcela roared against the crashing of the waves. Strong arms ripped her away from the wheel. She watched as the enemy ship threw out a rope and made a bootleg turn. It was too late. There was no saving them. She sagged against Lesaro in defeat.

Armando watched in sheer disbelief at the boy. Jack the Sparrow. How had he managed to outmaneuver him? Then, he glanced over at Marcela. She'd been right. It was a trap.

"You've doomed us all," Marcela whispered to him with tears in her eyes.

Day turned to night as they entered the triangle. There was a second of silence and a collective feeling of dread settled in the crew just before they hit the craggy rocks at the bottom of the triangle. The ship kept going, however, despite the spikes tearing it apart from below. The men began to run and there was an explosion. Lersaro dropped Marcela and took off. It was pandemonium.

Marcela watched as everything she'd grown to love fell apart. Men were blown into oblivion and those who were lucky enough to survive the fiery inferno would surely drown. Her eyes met Armando's one last time before he attempted to jump off the ship and into the rocks below. The sail hit him in the head just as he was about to make it off the ship. If by some miracle he survived, she knew that he would be unconscious.

"Armando!" She cried and made herself stand. It took everything in her to stand and jump off the railing after him. Even though he'd angered her beyond belief, she still loved him. She could see him floating there as she fell. There was a strange fiery red color like veins in the water. However, Marcela didn't have any time to contemplate it before she felt a sharp pain in her stomach just as she finally hit the water.

She gasped for air but found that it didn't relieve any of the burning horrible pain she felt. She slowly moved her head to take a look at her abdomen. She'd been impaled by the sharp blade-like rocks. After that initial shock, the pain wore off. She didn't feel much of anything anymore. Her eyes flitted back to Armando. Did she love him? That was the question that had been plaguing her since he'd kissed her. Finally, that feeling she'd been hiding deep within herself made sense and as she felt her life leaving her and the final beatings of her heart cease, she knew the answer. She did love him.


	12. Chapter 12: Memento Mori

Armando's eyes opened with urgency. Somehow he'd survived being hit in the head with that sail though he wasn't quite sure how. He surfaced and took a few breaths, aching to feel the relief of oxygen in his lungs. However, his breathing was labored and it did nothing to alleviate the burning sensation he felt. It was as though he were still drowning. Armando took a look up at his ship. It was in ruins. Surely there were a few of his crew members that had survived the crash. And then it hit him. Where was Marcela?

The frantic search for her didn't last long. He'd never felt such heartbreak in his life. The sight of that rock jutting through her abdomen and out of her back was more than he could bear... He felt as though he could cry, but no tears would come. He wanted to scream... but he had to get her off and at least give her the burial she deserved. How could this have happened? He should have listened to her. It was all due to his pride that he'd lost her.

She was limp and cold in his arms. Her skin was so ashen white that it took on a grayish color. Each of her veins were visible under her near translucent skin. And the blood wouldn't stop pouring out of the gaping wound that went clear through her body. He held her close to him, pressing his bloody lips to her damp forehead. Armando brushed her ebony hair back and prayed to whatever God there was to bring her back to him.

"Please come back. I'm so sorry... Te... te amo..." He whispered, gently rocking her in his arms. That confession had broken him. He'd pushed her away and never told her how he felt until it was too late. And then, a small hand encircled his wrist. Armando nearly jumped out of his skin. She was alive! He gazed down at her and let out a sigh of relief. He may have lost everything else, but at least he didn't lose her.

Armando's leaned down and kissed her with desperation. And for a moment, Marcela responded. She threw her arms around him, enjoying the moment before she remembered what had gotten them in the predicament they were in. She could taste the blood on his lips and it was strangely intoxicating. Marcela pushed him back, breaking their kiss and ending the moment between the two of them.

"You should have listened to me," she grumbled at him, squirming out of his arms. She was still upset with him. And why wouldn't she be? He had a few things to make up for, in her opinion; and a kiss was a definitely not enough. It was a good start, but she wouldn't be placated so easily.

Armando grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him. She looked different. The once supple skin on her face was cracked as though it were decaying and about to slough off and her eyes which were once an intense blue had turned a vibrant amber. This, however, didn't do much to lessen her beauty. Armando doubted that anything would.

Marcela sighed, watching him gawk at her. His hair moved as though he were floating in water. She'd surmised that they were cursed. They had all died and were destined to be trapped within the triangle for eternity. At least that's what the stories she'd heard said. She hadn't quite believed that it was real despite seeing incredible things and being a creature of myth herself.

"What has happened?" Armando asked, furrowing his brow.

"You took us into the Devil's Triangle. We are all dead, trapped for all eternity," Marcela answered.

Armando wasn't sure what to think of this. Could it be true? Could they be cursed to spend forever in this place? The thought frustrated him as he was far from finished with his mission. And it was because of that boy.

All around them, the crew were coming back to their senses. A few of them were lucky enough to have most of their appendages while others weren't much more than the few bits of their body that survived the fiery inferno. There was a moment of collective confusion as to what exactly had happened and where they were to go from there. The unfortunate answer was nowhere.

Antonio Moss was one of the few who were mostly in one piece for which Marcela was thankful. He scooped Marcela up while Armando limped back to the remains of the ship. She watched Armando move and couldn't help but feel bad. Through his gravity defiant hair, she could see the extent of the damage the mast had done on him. It almost made her thankful they were cursed as Armando would never have survived. None of them would have survived.

The Silent Mary was in ruins, but it was their only home. There wasn't much left of it, though they wouldn't exactly require the luxuries she provided anymore. Food and sleep were a thing of the past for them.

Marcela felt her scales receding and wiggled her toes with a slight smile on her face. At least she would still be able to walk, thankfully. It would be a pain to have to be carried everywhere. Antonio set her down and she took a few wobbly steps over to Armando. She couldn't decide if she wanted to stay angry at him. There was a part of her that was incredibly annoyed with his behavior, but an equally as important part wanted to comfort him. He'd lost everything he'd ever known and that made her sad for him.

She set her hand on his shoulder and relief washed over her as she saw his tense shoulders relax slightly. He set his larger hand on top of hers and squeezed. He knew that he should be thankful that he still had her and that he still had his crew, though he was still a man driven by his chosen purpose. What was he to do without that purpose? Though he hadn't tried, Armando had the feeling that leaving the Triangle was out of the question. It would seem that they were trapped.

"One day we will behold the light again, Armando," Marcela whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He didn't reply. He had no words. The thought of being free again seemed so impossible. There was such a heavy weight on his shoulders. He'd done this to them all and because of that, they would likely never step foot in their homes again. Some of his crew had wives and they would never be welcomed home by their families again. Of course, that was an occupational hazard, but Armando never imagined that it would be because of his decisions that he'd doomed them all.

"And what will we do until that day, mi amor?" he asked quietly.

"We wait. That is all that we can do," Marcela replied.


	13. Chapter 13: Doubts

There was nothing to do and it was maddening. His ship was in absolute disarray and that bothered Armando above everything else. The Silent Mary had once been so pristine and orderly, but since the accident, she was in shambles. He'd taken so much pride in the clean look of his crew and ship. Most of them had been blown to bits and their uniforms were in rags. He felt worst for Marcela as she was stuck wearing his duvet cover as a makeshift dress. It had faded from a brilliant vermilion to a dark blood red due to the blood, grime and age. The gaping hole in her stomach was almost constantly dripping blood just as his mouth had been.

Time was all that Armando had anymore and it gave him more opportunity to think and dwell on things than he would have liked. Those words he'd said to Marcela kept replaying in his mind over and over. Did he mean them? In all honesty, Armando wasn't quite sure. He'd said them in a moment of desperation and in any other circumstance, he wouldn't have said them at all. Perhaps it was the fact that he had too much time on his hands with nothing to do. He let out a sigh and leaned on his cane.

Walking had become another difficulty for him. He'd had a cane before but now more than ever, he required it to walk. His body was falling apart, but held together by some supernatural force. By all rights, they should all be dead. It was something that he had been trying to figure out since they'd been stuck there. He understood that it was the Triangle to blame for their curse, but what would set them free? Surely there was some way to give them life again.

He'd seen the Sparrow with that compass. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to be the key to everything. But then again, it could just be a simple compass. He tapped his cane absentmindedly and turned to watch the rest of his crew and Marcela. All of this downtime seemed to make them antsy, but Marcela didn't seem to be bothered much by the idea of being confined again. He supposed it was only natural as she'd spent much of her life confined to an even smaller space.

She was chatting absently with Moss. Antonio had been getting rather close with Marcela. Armando wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, though he supposed that she did need friends. She seemed distracted, however, and she was.

Marcela knew that Armando had been avoiding her again and the thought kept running through her mind. It seemed to her that he'd been having misgivings about what he'd said to her the day of the accident when he'd picked her up off that rock. He'd told her he loved her. And then he hadn't spoken to her since. And Marcela wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. One minute, he would act like he cared for her and then he would withdraw. It made no sense to her.

She looked over her shoulder at where Armando was standing to see him staring back at her. It was as though they were back at square one. Where did that put her? She felt as though she were trapped in the worst way. The way Armando seemed to change his mind so frequently made her feel like she was drowning. At least with Hector, there had been a clean break and she was able to have time to herself to get over this. But there was no getting away from him. She balled her hands into fists at the thought of all of this.

There was such a confusing whirlwind of emotions that Marcela had been feeling and frankly it was exhausting. She turned her gaze away from the captain and back to Antonio. He frowned a little, disliking the rift between her and the captain. It was making things very tense around what was left of the ship.

"You should speak with him," Antonio suggested to her. This woman had grown to be something of a younger sister to him. The heartbreak was evident on her face- and the captain's face as well.

"What would I say, Antonio?" Marcela sighed, clasping her hands in her lap, "One moment he acts as though he cares for me. And then he changes his mind and avoids me."

"The capitán is afraid, I think..."

At this, Marcela stood up almost angrily. She scowled at Antonio though she wasn't angry with him in the least.

"Afraid? What could he possibly fear? We are dead. All of us. And the only way out is so far out of our grasp that we may as well sit here for eternity!"

"Well... if I were the capitán, I think I would fear losing you. I think I would fear showing weakness. He is a strong man. You have seen that. Sometimes people hide their feelings because it is safer than to take the chance," Antonio fidgeted slightly.

Marcela's features softened and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Could this have been true? Did Armando really feel that way? And if he did, was that a valid excuse to string her along the way that he had been? She didn't think it was. Marcela gave Antonio a scrutinizing look before she turned her back on him. He was hiding something as well. She could tell with the way he'd been fidgeting. So she made a mental note to speak with him later.

Her strides were long and confident as she approached Armando, who had his back to her again. He made no indication as to whether or not he'd heard her. She grabbed his shoulder with all of her might and spun the hulking man to face her.

"No more of this... this going back and forth and avoiding me. I will have all of you or I will have none of you at all," Marcela spoke decisively. The look on her face was determined. She was done with the games. It didn't matter to her if Armando was afraid. There were things much stronger than the fear that may have been holding him back.

Armando wasn't quite sure what to say to her. But this ultimatum stuck a chord within him. He was normally such a decisive man and for him to be so unsure was very unlike him. He realized that if he didn't commit, he was going to lose her. Was he prepared for that? The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that he wasn't.

"Come," was all he said as he took her frail hand in his and lead her limping to what remained of his cabin. The dark room was in disarray, but provided the privacy from the crew he'd sought.

"Do you have any idea how you have hurt me?! I-" Marcela was cut off by his lips against hers. For a moment, she'd wanted to melt against him and forget all of the trials and tribulations that she'd been put through whether directly or inadvertently resulting from him. She pushed him away and scowled.

"I was talking! As... as much as I enjoyed that, we need to talk," Marcela sighed, "I... I will not be hurt again. You confuse me... you act like you want me and then you push me away and pretend nothing ever changed. I cannot live this way."

Armando listened to her and thought for a moment. Feelings weren't something that the Spaniard had much experience with as far as a serious relationship with a woman. He understood duty and he understood hunting pirates, but that was about it. However, he didn't want to lose her.

In response to Marcela, he wrapped his arms around her lithe body and kissed the top of her head, leaving a bit of blood behind. Though, Marcela didn't mind. She had come to accept that at a fact of being dead or rather undead for that matter. Her eyes fluttered closed for the moment. She knew he wasn't a man of many words and not one to be overly affectionate in public. That was alright as long as she knew where she stood with him.

He ran his fingers through her dark curly hair. It was still as soft as ever. Armando couldn't help but marvel again at how perfectly she fit in his arms. Her head tucked right under his chin and her hands splayed over the rags which remained of his coat.

"You will not have to worry about where your place is with me again," He murmured.

Marcela craned her head to peer up at him. That was all that she ever wanted to hear from the man. She smiled slightly and closed the gap between the two of them. His lips moved perfectly in sync with hers and though he was cold and dead, Armando felt warm to Marcela in that moment. She could taste his blood in her mouth again. It was coppery and cool though she didn't mind.

Armando's fingers fumbled to untie the duvet which served as a dress for the young siren. It fell to the floor in a pool of fabric. Marcela was bared before him and even with that gaping hole in her stomach that consistently dribbled scarlet blood, she was still perfect in his eyes. His rough hands found their way down to her hips where they rested. She slid his overcoat off and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor. Normally Armando would have folded it neatly and set it aside, but he was too captivated by the goddess before him.

Next came the vest beneath the coat. The amount of buttons frustrated Marcela. They looked dashing when they were all done up and he was wearing it, but taking the damn thing off was another story. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she feverishly undid the last few buttons and threw that item of clothing to the floor as well. His shirt and pants were easy enough to get off.

They stood there appraising each other for a moment before Armando drew her in for another kiss. She could feel his hard length pressing up against her stomach. This was so exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. It felt surreal from each touch of his lips to the fire that burned between her legs.

Armando lifted her up easily and gently laid her down on the bed. Thankfully, it was left for them. He wanted to make this perfect for her... well as perfect as it could be with them both being dead in a wrecked ship. Still, it was a nice thought.

He slid his hands up her sides to cup her supple breasts which caused Marcela to take a sharp inhale. With his thumb and forefinger, his rolled the sensitive nipple between his fingers. In response, Marcela arched her back into him. Her reactions were making him incredibly impatient, but Armando reminded himself that good things come to those who wait... and that he wanted to make this as memorable as possible for her.

Armando's other hand slid between her wet folds. He almost couldn't believe that such a beautiful creature was so wet with want for him. He slid a finger inside of her, eliciting another sharp gasp from the woman beneath him.

Marcela had never felt anything like this before and had no idea that such passion could be held between two beings. This was definitely something she planned to do again. She reached up to wrap her delicate hand around his throbbing member. Armando let out a little hiss as the feeling overcame him. Marcela blinked and then smirked a tiny bit. Taking his little noise as encouragement, she slid her hand up and down his length which seemed to be exactly the right thing to do.

There was a small amount of pain when Armando added another finger inside of her. She winced slightly at the feeling of being stretched. If his fingers barely fit, how would he? She asked herself. But soon the discomfort gave way to pleasure again and Armando had her panting beneath him.

"Please Armando... I can't take it anymore," Marcela moaned, bucking her hips up as he curled his two fingers inside of her. Truth be told, he was getting to the end of his patience as well. he slid his fingers out of her and positioned himself between her legs before giving her one last look. Was she certain she wanted to do this? Marcela responded by hooking her leg around him and drawing him closer.

There was a ripping within her as Armando sheathed himself deep inside. Marcela let out a whimper and bit back any more noises that threatened to spill from her lips. Her hands gripped the sheets of the bed beneath her in an attempt to assuage some of the pain.

Armando waited until her face began to relax before he gripped her hips and began to slowly move. The pace he set was near torturous for both of them. Marcela bucked her hips into him, urging him to go faster for which Armando was only too happy to comply.

Her head fell back again to the bed with a soft thud as the feeling of pleasure overtook her again and a strange pressure began to build within her. She opened her eyes to watch him. Even then, he was handsome with his face contorted in ecstasy and his hair floating about his head.

Steadily, his thrusts began to get more sloppy and less rhythmic. He could feel himself getting close to the edge. But he wouldn't allow himself to fall over until she did. Armando reached down to her most sensitive intimate part and slowly rubbed the little nub which earned a loud moan from his lover.

Marcela could feel the pressure building until she thought she was going to explode. And she could have sword that she had as his ministrations pushed her over the edge. The world went dark for a second as the waves of ecstasy rolled over her. Armando followed soon after, sheathing himself inside of her as he spilled his seed.

The two were left panting in the aftermath. Armando pulled out of her and laid down on the bed next to her. His arm wrapped around her to bring her closer to him. He kissed the top of her head as Marcela snuggled into the captain. Though sleep was the furthest thing from either of their minds at the moment, he wanted to bask in this for as long as he could before the feeling of being suffocated by the Triangle's curse set back in. In that moment, everything was perfect.


	14. Chapter 14: Obsessions

With so much time to sit and think, Armando's feelings of guilt turned to rage. How had a boy bested him? The thought made Armando impatient and irritable. There would come a day when they would escape the Triangle, but that day didn't seem to be in the foreseeable future. He tapped his cane anxiously on the deck. Until that day, he would plan and plot. He would one day catch Sparrow and on that day, he promised that he would cut him down. And with each day that passed, that pent up anger built within him.

Marcela stood watching him for some time. Armando had always been a very persistent man driven by goals, but she'd never imagined him to be one so bent on having revenge. Though, she supposed that it was only natural to want to completely decimate the man who took everything from them. The feeling of being confined had to have been new to them. But Marcela knew the feeling all too well and though it saddened her that all the things she'd imagined she would see slipped beyond her grasp, she wasn't alone this time.

She fiddled with the sleeves of the shirt that she had changed into. It was one of Armando's that had managed to survive the crash. It was far too big for her, but much better than wearing a blanket. It hung down to her mid-thigh. She tugged at it slightly and sighed. It would have been fantastic had they gotten a chance to travel to a port and get her some proper clothing. She had found a ratty pair of pants when she'd rummaged through the ruins of below deck. They had split up almost past her knees, but again it was better than nothing.

Her eyes drifted to where Antonio was sitting alone. He had a wistful look on his face. Marcela was certain that he had something on his mind that he'd been hiding from everyone. She followed his line of sight. He'd been watching Lesaro. And then it dawned on Marcela. Antonio had been talking about his feelings toward Lesaro. He'd been talking from experience. That realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Had she been so absorbed in her own issues that she hadn't noticed Antonio's anguish? He'd hidden it well, that was for certain.

Antonio barely noticed as Marcela sat down next to him. He let out a longing sigh.

"Talk to him..." Marcela suggested. Antonio jumped as he hadn't registered her presence yet.

"What would I say?" He asked, fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat.

"Just tell him how you feel," Marcela furrowed her brow, "He will either accept your feelings or say no. What could be the worst that could happen?"

"Javier could try to kill me?"

"You're already dead, Antonio. Wait... his name is Javier?" How had she not known that? Well, come to think of it, she didn't know the names of several of the men she'd been sailing with. Javier Lesaro... that was strange.

They sat together in silence for the moment with nothing but the sound of the rippling water below between the two of them. Antonio felt slightly better now that he knew he had someone to talk to at the very least. It made eternity stuck in the triangle a little less nerve-wracking. He felt as though he could relax if even a little bit. With nothing to do to keep himself busy, his feelings for Javier and the hesitation to do anything about it, caused him near constant anxiety.

Meanwhile, Marcela had been thinking to herself. The person who had tried to kill her was stuck with her. Since the accident, she hadn't thought much about it mainly because she'd been too concerned with Armando. But now that it was all sorted out, the thought plagued her more than she would have liked. Whoever it was, they were still on the ship with her. She couldn't die anymore. She'd already died. So where did that leave them? Whoever it was had obviously wanted to be rid of her. How would they attempt to accomplish that now?

"Antonio? Who do you think tried to kill me?" She murmured to which he only shook his head in reply. He honestly had no idea. Who would want her gone? Perhaps someone close to Armando who thought that she was getting in the way. But nobody was very close to the captain.

"They will be revealed in due time, I suppose. We aren't going anywhere and killing me isn't a possibility anymore. I mean to bide my time, then," Marcela stood from her spot next to Antonio. But the question still remained. Did she really want to know? What if it were Antonio? She sighed and patted her friend on the shoulder.

"You can do it, Antonio. He would be a fool to pass a man such as you up," Marcela grinned and earned a small smile in return from the man sitting before her.

"Now, it would seem our captain requires a bit of distracting," she said to herself as she wandered off from her friend and up to the man she loved. He seemed to know she was coming before she'd even ascended the stairs to meet him.

Armando turned to her and took her hand in his, lifting it to press his lips against it. Wherever his cold lips touched left a smear of darkened blood behind, but Marcela didn't quite mind. Cleanliness seemed to be a thing of the past anymore. It would take some time to get used to the new look of the crew, but as ethereal and almost terrifying as they looked, they were still the same men.

"Stop dwelling on The Sparrow, Armando. It does not do good to hang onto revenge. One day, we will escape. But until then, think of what you have now. You have your crew... and you have me. Is that not enough for now?" She asked, letting her fingers tangle in his hair. She could feel the wound on the back of his head and it made her heart hurt for him. Though she knew that her own wound didn't hurt, it certainly didn't make her feel alive.

"It is... for now. But one day we will behold the sun again. And after I wet my blade with the blood of Jack the Sparrow, I will bring you home to Spain," He promised, looking into her amber eyes. Though a part of himself still yearned to hunt pirates, losing Marcela wasn't something he could handle. Perhaps one day they could have a family and though he would always be a soldier, his heart would be hers.

"Spain...? Is that where you come from?" She asked, tilting her head.

"It is a beautiful land. I will tell you about it sometime," Armando let a little ghost of a smile onto his face. He supposed that with her, this predicament wasn't quite as bad as it could have been had he been serving this eternity alone. No, he had her and it was enough, at least for the moment.


	15. Chapter 15: Witch Hunt

Armando had been on the hunt for the man who had attempted to kill Marcela. However, he knew that he was going to need some help and only his most trusted would do. Of course Moss was Marcela's friend... but could he be trusted? Armando wasn't quite sure. There was only one man who Armando had trusted to be his right hand and that was Lesaro.

The captain's wheezing breathing could be heard accompanied with the heavy thuds of his cane and sword which he relied on heavily to walk as he approached the lieutenant. Lesaro seemed slightly surprised to be approached by the captain as their duties had been neglected. There had been no sense in keeping the Silent Mary in the pristine shape she was once in since she had been wrecked. Armando had opted to cut his losses and move on... except there was no moving on or moving anywhere for that matter.

"I require your assistance, Lesaro," Armando spoke quietly to the one-eyed man.

"With what, my capitán?" Javier asked, furrowing his brow.

"Someone has attempted to murder our siren," Armando's face had gotten very close to Javier's as he often tended to do when he spoke. Normally it wouldn't have bothered the lieutenant save for the fact that it had been him who had tried to kill Marcela. Javier feigned a look of surprise on his face as though he couldn't fathom the thought.

"Who would want to harm a creature so... charming as her?" Javier asked, continuing his little facade of concern over the discomfort he was feeling.

"No prayers will be able to save that man once I find him. God is not here, Lieutenant. He has abandoned us and so shall we abandon Him," Armando spoke with a dark look on his face. Javier could only wonder what the captain had planned. How could the undead be tortured? How could the undead be killed?

"I will do all I can to assist you, capitán," Javier's voice was quiet and grave which Armando took for seriousness instead of trepidation. It pleased Armando to know that he could count on his right hand man to assist him in ensuring that Marcela was safe. He gave Javier a hearty pat on the back before limping off to attend to his business- business which more often than not consisted of being stuck in his own mind.

Javier felt sick to his stomach. He should have done more to ensure that Marcela was truly dead. He hadn't wanted to get his hands any dirtier than they already were. But he would have stabbed her. That was his first mistake. He should have made sure she was dead before he'd thrown her overboard. Javier grit his teeth as his mind raced. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be a way to frame someone.

He glanced hurriedly about the ship in an attempt to figure out who he would set the blame on. Perhaps he could plant a bloody handkerchief on someone. It would be enough evidence to set off the captain. All that mattered was that Armando thought they had caught the person responsible. Now all he had to do was find someone dimwitted enough to dig themselves in a hole they couldn't climb back out of...

The door to the cabin opened and closed and in stepped Armando. Marcela had been busy running her fingers through her dark curls. They had tangled so easily when dry. It was almost infuriating. It was too bad the hairbrush that had been gifted to her wasn't anywhere to be found. She could really have used that thing.

Armando wrapped his arms around her from behind and placed a bloody kiss on her cheek which had to be wiped off. He hobbled over to what remained of his bed and sat down on it, casting his sword and cane aside for the moment. He was humming a familiar song which stopped Marcela in her tracks. It was the only song she knew of her people.

"You heard me sing?" She asked, turning to face him. Marcela had only sang once and planned not to do it again at the risk of attempting to kill someone as she had the last time.

"I would hear you sing again every day if I could," Armando said unabashedly. If blood had been flowing through her veins, Marcela was sure that she would have blushed. Was her voice truly that beautiful?

"You know I cannot do that, Armando. What if I hurt you?" She murmured, clasping her hands in her lap.

"How can you kill something that is already dead?" He countered, leaning toward her.

Marcela sighed. He did have a point. She supposed it was relatively safe. He had no life to lose to her anymore.

"Just this once," She nodded though she knew that she would sing for him again in a heartbeat if he asked it of her.

Armando's eyes were trained on her in the dark room. It was a little bit daunting to have him so focused on her. Marcela closed her eyes and took a deep breath before beginning her song. It had no words but was all the more beautiful for it. She didn't even know the name of it, but it brought back memories of the place she'd once called home before she'd been snatched away.

He listened to her and though it didn't have the effect that it once did when he was alive, her song was beautiful nonetheless. Between the soaring highs and dipping low points, he didn't know which part he enjoyed the most. He'd hoped to hear it again and again and commit it to memory before the day when the curse was broken. Armando knew they had plenty of time for that, so he just laid back and enjoyed the moment. He had the most beautiful woman with the most stunning voice all to himself. What more could he want?


	16. Chapter 16: One Step Forward

How much time had passed since they'd been trapped in that cursed place? The Triangle had taken its toll on everyone but none more so than the captain. His patience with everyone had been wearing more and more thin. Armando pursed his lips. There had been little to occupy himself with other than catching the man who had tried to kill his Marcela. He eyed the crew from his place at the bow of the ship. Any one of them could have been responsible.

Marcela didn't seem very preoccupied with the thought that her would be killer was stuck there with her. After all, she couldn't die as she was already dead. And she wasn't quite sure that she wanted to know. What could she do about it? It would cause a rift between the man responsible and those who she'd befriended.

However, the thoughts kept lingering in Armando's head. The more he dwelt on it, the more he had come to think that someone in his crew had betrayed him. Though her relationship with him wasn't sordidly romantic, they had attempted to kill a woman nonetheless. She wasn't a pirate and the thought that anyone would harm her rubbed him the wrong way and he itched to serve justice upon his homicidal crew member.

It was difficult not to obsess over. Never had a woman taken command of his heart in such a way. It was confusing to the man. She had made him feel in ways he had begun to think himself not capable of. If the day ever came that they were freed from this prison, he had plans to bring her to Spain. He'd thought on it a lot and had imagined the way that their house would look and God willing, their prospective children. These thoughts of an unforeseeable future with her quelled the rage that continuously built within him to what amounted to embers of a once roaring fire. The thought of stamping out the life of the little bird was always in the back of his mind, however. It gave him a purpose, and Armando was the kind of man who needed a purpose to function efficiently.

The familiar slender arms of his siren wrapped around his torso. His shoulders sagged slightly as he relaxed against her hold. Her head rested against his back. Even as Armando was hunched over against the railing, he was still much taller than her. Marcela closed her eyes and listened to his raspy breathing. It had been unsettling for the first few weeks that when she pressed her ear to his chest, there was no longer any beating of his heart- only the rattling sound of his labored breathing.

"Did you have a family?" She asked suddenly. The question caused him to tense.

"Long ago..." Armando replied after a pregnant pause. An uncomfortable air settled around the pair. Marcela's curiosity was piqued, however. It excited her in a sad way to know that they had things in common.

"My father hunted pirates. He was seduced by their bribes. My mother was forced into servitude and died there to atone for my father's sins. I absolved him with my sword," Armando muttered darkly. There was another long silence as Marcela took this in. Her head was still resting on his back as she thought his words over.

"I am sorry..." She whispered back. It was unfortunate that sirens, as legendary as they were, had such limited powers. If only she could bring back the dead. Perhaps it would ease some of the man's suffering. He had her heart, but at times Marcela felt that it wasn't enough. There was such sorrow within him that she hadn't understood before.

"My pod was killed off by pirates. I understand sorrow. I wish there were some way I could help," Marcela continued, knowing there was little to nothing that she could do. It was a sad feeling knowing they were cursed to live this way. It broke her heart for him. And yet she was powerless to stop it.

Armando shifted and turned to wrap his arms around her lithe form. Being alone with his thoughts this long was enough to drive him mad, but he was happy to have her. She had become his own little ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world. She was a breath of fresh air in his failing lungs.

"It is in the past. The past cannot be changed, Mi alma," Armando sighed, kissing the top of her head affectionately.

"...What does that mean?" Marcela breathed.

"My soul..."


	17. Chapter 17: Two Steps Back

There Lesaro was once again but for the first time in awhile, he was alone. There was no captain nearby or crew members. It was now or never. Had Antonio's heart still beat, he was certain that it would be beating out of his chest. There was no adrenaline to be had in his system, but yet he still felt nervous. His amber eyes searched the deck for any sign of anyone else. If he were to be rejected, at least he could avoid embarrassment so long as nobody else caught wind of what had happened. He took a tentative step toward Javier who had been staring out into the sharp rocks below.

Guilt was beginning to settle in and now more than ever, Javier felt the near unbearable need to tell someone of what he'd done... of what he'd attempted. The siren was a beautiful creature and whether or not he wanted to admit it, she gave the captain sanity in this trying time. Without her, Javier didn't want to think about what state of mind Armando would have been in. He'd known the man for years and wasn't prepared to lose the only leader he'd ever had, but it seemed that he'd lost the only life he'd ever known anyway.

At the time, Javier had felt such satisfaction at seeing Marcela's body sink into the depths below the ship. However, since he'd had too much time on his hands to contemplate his actions, it had begun to weigh on him like the crushing despair of this new home of theirs. Javier's heart had been so heavy. He'd trusted no one to ease some of his burden, though he had thought about telling the captain of what he'd done more than once. He didn't want to think of what his punishment would be once he was inevitably found out. On the other hand, Javier knew he deserved whatever punishment the captain deemed fit for him.

"Javier," Antonio called softly to his one-eyed counterpart. Javier jumped a little as he hadn't seen the other man standing there. He'd been so completely absorbed within the thoughts of his guilt that reality had faded away for the moment. Javier turned to look at the officer before him, wondering what it was that he could possibly want. His heart sank for a second. Perhaps the captain wanted him. Armando Salazar was the last man that Javier wanted to see. He didn't think that he could hold in his secret much longer, so he'd been avoiding the siren and the captain for as long as possible.

"Officer Moss," Javier greeted stiffly. His lips were pressed into a thin line in an attempt to seal away the words that threatened to spill out.

"In lieu of our situation, I... I thought maybe we could have a drink sometime. I found this bottle of brandy," Moss stuttered to the lieutenant. He didn't know if the brandy was any good or if they could even drink it, but it would be nostalgic to remember the time when they could get intoxicated, he supposed. Had he been human, his face would have been flushed with a deep red blush, but the only thing to give away his nervousness anymore were his eyes and the tone of his voice.

It was all lost on Javier, however. He had only been partially listening. Any romantic implications that he might have caught onto had his mind been clear went completely over his head. Someone to talk to was all that he needed; someone to spill his secret to before he exploded.

"I know who tried to kill Marcela," Javier blurted out before he could stop himself.

"You know? Tell me. Who tried to kill her?" Antonio's mind suddenly switched from love struck man to hardened officer and friend to a woman assaulted.

"I did," Javier whispered just loud enough for Antonio to hear. The weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but not completely. His secret was out, but the guilt of consequences of his actions were still settled firmly in place.

Antonio's mind was running through what had just happened over and over again. Was it real? Lieutenant Javier Lesaro had tried to kill Marcela. The officer could feel his heart breaking. A wedge had been driven between his love interest and the woman who was easily his most trusted friend. What was he to do? Would he be selfish and keep the secret to himself? But if he did that, could he continue being friends with Marcela? Could he look her and the captain in the eye day after day, knowing who her assailant was? Antonio didn't think that he could and that unfortunate reality ate at him.

There were no more words to be had between the two of them. Antonio had nothing more to say and Javier was left basking in what little comfort had been afforded from confessing his secret. Antonio knew what he had to do, even if it pained him to do it. He turned to go find the captain and his siren. It was the right thing to do and Antonio knew that in his heart of hearts.


	18. Chapter 18: Wrath

Hell had no fury like that of Armando Salazar, especially not when it came to Marcela. Armando liked to consider himself a relatively reasonable man, but betrayal was not something that he could tolerate. Before him stood Officer Moss. Armando had been spending time on the bow of the ship with Marcela as they tended to do in their increasingly frequent amount of free time. His hand gripped his cane tightly as the rage began to boil within him once more.

"Bring Lesaro to me," Armando spat to Antonio. The officer was afraid but not for himself. He feared for Javier. This had been a difficult thing for him to do considering his feelings for the man, but ultimately his loyalties had to lie with his captain... and his friend. If Javier's existence continued after what he could only imagine Armando wanted to do with him, he wasn't sure how long it would take for everyone to forgive him... for Antonio to forgive him.

There was an almost insurmountable feeling of despair within Antonio as he nodded gravely to the enraged captain and turned on his heel to retrieve the accused Javier. What would the captain do to him? Was there much that the captain could do? After all, they were already dead. Perhaps he would seek a way to destroy Javier. That was a grim thought, but Antonio knew that Javier would have to answer now or later for what he'd done. If only there was a way to reverse it all. Things just seemed to be getting more and more grim in the ghostly crew's lives.

Marcela had been listening to it all. A surreal feeling settled within her and now that she knew, Marcela realized that it was ridiculously obvious. Of course it would have been Lesaro. Lesaro never liked her. He made that perfectly clear. But to go as far as to attempt to kill her? Was that forgivable? Marcela wasn't quite sure; and it if were forgivable, how long would it take? As she watched her captain tremble in the rage he felt, the siren knew she had much to think about.

She slid her arms around the man before her. He wanted to be rid of Lesaro. And it pained him because Armando had always considered the lieutenant to be his closest ally, if not a friend. Armando wanted to convince himself that Javier was being framed, or that it had been an accident. There had to be another reason, anything to explain this. However as Moss returned with Lesaro and Armando saw the guilty look on the man's face, it became apparent that this was no accident.

The captain drew his rapier, intent on somehow making the man pay. He grit his teeth so hard the blackened bile spilled in thick droplets onto the deck. He could feel Marcela's hand attempting to hold him back, but he would have none of it. Betrayal would not be tolerated; not from anyone... least of all his trusted crew.

"Lieutenant Lesaro, you are accused of attempted murder. What do you have to say for yourself?" The captain scowled, gripping his rapier tight in one hand and his cane in the other.

"I did what I thought was best to save you, capitán," Javier breathed as he hung his head. He couldn't bring himself to look at either of them. The shame was too powerful. And the worst part? He didn't have much to say for himself because he was guilty and there was no excuse. Javier had nothing to say for himself that either of them would want to hear.

"Your betrayal of your crew and your captain will cost you dearly, Lesaro. You assaulted a woman. Not a pirate. But a woman... my woman. If your heart still beat, I would stop it myself. Get him out of my sight while I decide what to do with this poor excuse for a lieutenant." Armando growled.

Marcela wanted to object but she could find no words. Armando was right and Javier was going to get what he deserved. Armando would see to it.

"Don't kill him," Marcela begged, tugging on the sleeve of his coat. Armando didn't respond. He wasn't sure if there was a way to kill Javier, but he was sure that he could hurt him.

"There are worse things than death," Armando muttered darkly before limping away leaving Marcela alarmed. She wasn't exactly sure what would happen to Lesaro and she wasn't certain that she wanted to know.


	19. Chapter 19: Humanity Lost

Time passed as it does. The situation with Lesaro hadn't gotten any better, however it also hadn't gotten any worse. It was a full month, or so Marcela had calculated, before Armando had finally allowed Javier Lesaro on the deck once more. There was an uneasy sort of understanding between them all. Lesaro had been doing his best to earn back his captain's trust, though he was unsure if that would ever be a prize he deserved. An unnerving silence had fallen among the crew of the Silent Mary. At one time, the ship had been bustling with sailors. Nobody seemed to speak with one another anymore. More often than not, they were pensive in their own minds. There was nothing to be done and nothing to be said. All they could do was wait. It was a maddening feeling.

Days had turned into months and months into years and years into decades. Eventually, Marcela just stopped keeping track of just how long they had been imprisoned within the Triangle. She would give Lesaro a distrustful glance in passing, but she had not spoken a word to the man. Perhaps she preferred it that way. It felt as though they were all walking on a tight rope above a pit of spikes. Their perch was unsteady and any slight push would cause them to lose their tumultuous balance and descend into chaos. It was easier to keep her distance and maintain what uneasy truce they had wordlessly forged than to move forward in any sort of platonic relationship with the man. No, that was impossible until the day that they were freed.

Armando had been biding his time. They were capable of experiencing pain. The captain had learned that much when two of his crew members got in a fight over a petty bet. They had run each other through with their rapiers and by the cries they had made, Armando was certain that they were in some measure of pain even though a second and perhaps final death was seemingly impossible for them. What he'd seen had given Armando some ideas. He'd been planning for some time.

When he'd ordered his men to bring Lesaro to him, they didn't put up any resistance as he'd imagined. The look in his amber eyes said that he wasn't to be argued with. Armando paced around what remained of the Silent Mary's mast. The possibilities of his punishment were endless. He could flay Javier's rotting skin from his body or he could rip the man's fingernails off... Perhaps the torment would begin slowly so as to assure the maximum amount of pain possible for a dead man. Lesaro had no life to lose but that knowledge was little more than a minor inconvenience for the captain. He had something much bigger in store for the traitor.

Javier put up no fight when he had been called to meet the captain. With a grim face he marched on to the mast. He knew that the time for him to pay for what he'd done had come. He didn't feel fear quite as much as he felt guilty that he had betrayed the man he once called friend. He had allowed jealousy and malcontent to blind him and had come closer than comfort to being a murderer.

"Bring rope. Bind him." Armando commanded. The men scattered to find that which he had demanded to be brought to him at the risk of being the next to feel his wrath. Rope shouldn't have been difficult to find. And Armando needed them to find it fast. He didn't want Marcela to see what he had planned for her assailant. As a precaution, he'd ordered Antonio to keep her far away from them for the time being. There was a little nagging worry in the back of his mind that if she knew, she would think he was a monster and once this was all over, maybe he would deserve to be called such. However, the longer that he had to spend with her, the more Armando came to realize there was no length he wouldn't go to for her. There was no corner of the Earth that anyone who harmed her could run to for safety. He would always find them and end them even if it was the last thing he did. Perhaps it was a bit much but... she was all he had. He'd lost his mother, his father, his ship, his life, the man he thought was his friend. Everything had been wrenched away from him- but not her. Armando would make sure that the wild creature of the sea that had captured his heart would never be taken from him.

The rope which bound Javier was tight; just another reminder of his sins. If there were some way he could atone or some way that he could go back and change what he'd done, he would in a heartbeat. But it was too late for him and he knew that much. The men had left his arms freed and that was his first clue that the captain had something heinous in mind for him. Javier took one nervous fleeting glance at the unforgiving yellow eyes of his captain. There was no pity in Salazar's eyes. And as eyes are the windows to the soul, Javier could see there was no remorse in his soul for what was about to happen to him. Perhaps it was better that way.

Armando's hand thrust out abruptly and in his hand was a rusty dagger. Javier gave the superior officer a questioning look to which Armando urged Javier to take the dagger. His pale hand stretched out and shakily grasped the weapon that was offered to him. What was he supposed to do with it?

"Your eye shall not pity. It shall be life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. But you have no life to give me, and what kind of monster would I be if I took your other eye, hombre?" Armando asked, looking his bound lieutenant up and down. He turned his back on the man and limped a few feet away. He wanted a good view.

"You make to torture me and then dare to quote the Bible?!" Javier sparked with outrage. Salazar doubled back. His face was so close to Javier that as Armando spoke, the black bloody bile that constantly dribbled out of his mouth splattered onto Javier's face.

"God is not here, Lieutenant. I am the closest thing to salvation that you have and I am not feeling in a particularly forgiving mood." Armando spat, the black viscous liquid once again spattering on Javier's face.

With the realization of what the captain demanded of him dawning on him, Lesaro swallowed anxiously. He lifted his shaky hands and took the knife to himself. At first it wasn't as bad but then the cartilage and bone got in the way of his task. His cries filled the stagnant air of the Triangle as his own blood spilled to the deck. The dagger was dull and though he was already so decomposed, it wasn't easy. Javier's hand hung partially off his wrist as he cut away in a hacking motion. He only wanted this over with.

Armando's eyes were trained on him but whether or not he was satisfied with his design was masked by his stony facade. He watched expectantly. This was far from over. Ultimately, Armando didn't know if there would be much more of Javier Lesaro left but that wasn't his problem.

All was going well until the cabin door burst open. Marcela had heard cries and she wasn't about to just sit back while someone was hurt. She stopped dead in her tracks at what she'd seen. Her eyes glistened with tears. Even with as much animosity as she'd had for Javier, she still didn't wish that amount of torture on him. She didn't wish that on anyone... not even Hector. She marched up and snatched the dagger from Javier and with all her might she threw the damned thing into the rocky water below. Her nimble fingers fumbled at Javier's restraints until she heard the sound of a rapier being unsheathed.

"I will finish this, Marcela," Armando spoke dangerously with his sword pointed at her back. The siren stood to her full height and turned to the man she loved. There was no fear in her; only disappointment and anguish. Javier finished untying himself with his good hand and dropped to the deck. Marcela bent down and helped the injured man to his feet. He leaned heavily on her, but it didn't bother her.

"If you're going to run me through with that then do it, Armando."

In response Armando sheathed his rapier, but this wasn't over. Marcela shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I don't even know who you are anymore," She whispered before she slowly lumbered off to find Barros. If nobody was going to help Javier Lesaro, then she would. He didn't deserve it for trying to kill her, but he also didn't deserve to be made to cut his own hand off. But that wasn't what bothered her the most. What killed her inside was the look in Armando's eyes. The Triangle was changing him and Marcela feared that if they didn't get out soon, the man that she'd come to care for so much would be unrecognizable by the time they finally saw the sun again.


	20. Chapter 20: Dead Men Tell No Tales

The day started out just as any other in the Triangle had. Er well... Marcela had thought it was day. It was always so dark there. She'd been thinking about what Armando had done and what there was for her to do about it. The situation had definitely brought her closer to Javier Lesaro than she'd ever thought possible. But there was a part of her that pitied him. Marcela couldn't shake the sight of Armando watching Javier torment himself as she leaned against the railing of the bow of the Silent Mary. She stared passively into the placid water. She never realized how much she missed seeing waves until all she could see were sharp rocks and inky black depths.

Nothing lived in the Triangle to stir the water, so when her reflection was distorted by ripples, Marcela was alarmed. She jerked her head up to see just what could have made such a disturbance... and there was a ship. It looked to be British, but Marcela really wasn't sure how much time had passed since they'd been entrapped in that horrible place. It could have been anyone from anywhere. It wasn't long before the rest of the crew took notice, either.

Armando had ordered the crew to fire at the oncoming ship and they did so happily. It had been so long since the cannons had been used and perhaps even longer since they had seen anything interesting or had anything to occupy themselves. Men were shouting and for a moment, it was almost as though they were out on the open ocean again.

Marcela wasted no time boarding the English ship with the rest of the Silent Mary and while her cohorts were busy slaughtering every man they could get their hands on, Marcela wandered below deck. She had to wonder what poor souls the British would have imprisoned down there and she didn't particularly want to witness what had become of Armando. With each passing day he seemed less and less human. She could handle the destruction of the Silent Mary and even the destruction of herself, but not him. He had been such a gentleman and to see him reduced to little more than an animal broke her heart.

Her blood dripped down the steps as she wandered below deck. She barely made a sound save for the soft patting of her feet and the occasional drop of blood splattering onto the wood. She was sure she looked a sight to a living person with her torso blown to pieces and the way her skin looked as though it could just slough off at any moment. As she approached the jail cells, her suspicions were confirmed- at least for the elderly man who began shaking at the sight of her. The other, a young boy didn't seem quite as alarmed by her presence.

Marcela phased right through the bars in which the boy was trapped in to study him closer. He wasn't unattractive. But he was still young and had little to offer in the form of experience. He had olive-toned skin and hair bleached by days in the sun. She reached out with her cold hands and tugged on his coat sleeves. They were ripped. She didn't know much about naval customs, but she thought this was the mark of treason. The siren tilted her head. He was warm. It was such a comfort to her for she had not felt warmth in decades.

The boy stared back, seemingly entranced by her. He wasn't sure what she was, but she didn't seem to want to harm him. Perhaps she was one of those ghosts he'd read about. The sea certainly did have a plethora of curses and legends. A large number of possibilities ran through his mind as he stared into her amber eyes, clouded with cataracts. She was dead. He knew that much. Blood leaked from the ceiling. If the screams of men above weren't enough of a clue as to the massacre above, then the blood that dripped like rain was.

"Marcela!" Came the sharp voice of Armando as he limped down the steps. All the medals that adorned his coat clinked, announcing Armando's arrival. They were once shiny priceless trophies to him but they had become little more than pieces of metal that didn't annoy him quite enough to rip off his uniform. Their little moment was broken as she turned away to face the man who had called her. Marcela seemed harmless enough, but these men who had followed her down... not so much. The man in the cell next to him had begun blubbering. He fell to the floor as a sword was promptly forced through his abdomen.

Armando closed in, asserting his place between the living and the dead. However, that wasn't what interested him. He could care less about the living. The poster on the floor bore the resemblance of the boy who had taken everything from him. He speared it with his rapier and pulled it up to get a closer look.

"Jack Sparrow. Do you know this pirate?" Armando asked, holding up the poster to gaze at the man who had ruined his life.

"Only by name," the boy replied. He seemed intrigued, or at least that's what Marcela gathered. He didn't seem afraid, and if he was he hid it well.

"You are looking for him?" Armando asked. This boy had piqued his interest. If he was looking for Jack Sparrow, then he knew that there was a chance. He was stuck in the Triangle but the boy, however... he was not.

"The key to our escape is Jack Sparrow and the compass which he holds," Armando continued, his face getting a little too close to the boy for comfort. It was then that the boy's face turned from one of awe to apprehension as the rest of the crew closed in on him.

"No no no no. No need to fear me, boy. I always leave one man alive to tell the tale. Find Sparrow for me and relay a message to him from Capitán Salazar. Sa-la-zar and tell him.." Armando paused for a moment as more of the bloody bile spilled from his lips and ran down his chin, "death will come straight for him. Will you say that to him, please? I wish I could do it myself but dead men tell no tales." With that, Armando turned and led the crew out of the ship, leaving the boy.

Marcela took once last fleeting glance at him before turning to return to their respective shipwreck-home. She had to wonder just how he was going to make it out of the Triangle. He was alive, so it should have been easy enough. Though, that ship would be difficult to sail on his own- if it were even capable of sailing. She supposed that it wasn't her problem. He would find a way unless he wished to die there like they did. Then he would be just another slave to the Triangle.

Marcela followed Armando. She'd grown to know the subtle nuances in his facial expressions over the decades. He'd obsessed over Sparrow for longer than she would have thought possible. For a moment, it seemed to her as though he was giving up hope and that it would slip away. But with the arrival of that boy it seemed that his rage had been rekindled and with it, his obsession to hunt down the young man who had caused their deaths those thirty years ago.

"Armando, who knows if he'll even ever find Jack Sparrow. He could be dead for all we know," Marcela objected once they were out of earshot of the rest of the crew. Armando rounded on her. He didn't appreciate her speculations.

"I have all the time in the world, Marcela. But I do not have time for your conjectures." He scowled.

"You have changed, Armando. You are not the man I fell in love with anymore. The Triangle has taken everything from us, but we have each other! Or we used to. Your hatred for a boy who wronged you thirty years ago has clouded your mind for far too long. I would like to be free just as much as the rest of us. I have all the time in the world, Armando. But I do not have time for your vengeance," Marcela argued back. She immediately regretted what she'd said, however. The look on Armando's face hardened and then softened has her own fell.

"I did not mean that... I only want to live again. I want to go to Spain like you promised me and I want to feel the sun again. I want to see your eyes the way they used to be. I want to hear your heartbeat..." Marcela murmured. If she could procure tears, she was certain that they would fall like rain.

"We will behold the sun again, mi sirenita." Armando stated carefully. He took her smaller hands in his. Her display didn't quell the rage he felt within him, though. If anything, it gave him even more of a reason to hunt the pirate down. Jack Sparrow had caused them all more anguish than he had ever imagined he would experience in his lifetime. That place was doing horrible things to them, and knowing that they were at the mercy of a pirate was enough to make him see red.

Marcella nodded slightly. She wasn't sure they would ever escape, but arguing with him had proven to be a moot point. However, Armando knew the day was coming. Sparrow couldn't hold onto that compass forever and on the day that he let it go, they would be coming for them. It was going to happen soon, he could feel it in his tired bones.


	21. Chapter 21: Salvation

They lived like rats trapped in a cage and it was maddening. Once again Marcela had to marvel at just how long they'd been there. She wasn't certain, but it definitely felt like a lifetime. Part of her was glad that she hadn't kept track. She didn't want to know how many decades had passed for the undead crew. After what Armando had done, her feelings about him had been somewhat unsure. Of course he'd done it for her and his heart was in the right place, but what he'd done was heinous even by her standards.

Antonio had felt a great deal of guilt over his decision as well. At the time he'd felt as though telling the captain was the right choice... if only he'd known what Javier's punishment would be. If he could go back in time, Antonio would have kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately, he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. He'd wanted to protect Marcela and at the time it had seemed valid. Though, perhaps Javier had his own reasons for doing what he did. His transgression paled in comparison to Armando's punishment. Everything had seemed alright until that moment. He hadn't noticed how with each day the very core of their beings were being peeled away. Antonio had failed to realize that they were slowly losing who they were. They were all becoming monsters on the inside as they were on the outside.

It had been easier to get angry than before. Little things had begun to irritate him that when he was alive he wouldn't have batted an eye at. There was no exception to this on the ship. All of this waiting was becoming more than what they could bear. Antonio had noticed it in the form of the captain's constant humming and tapping of his cane on the deck. It was the same with the crew. They would stare listlessly for hours on end when they weren't fighting with one another. And those who didn't fight would fidget near constantly.

An air of agitation had settled thickly over the ship. Armando held no remorse over what he'd done and it seemed to make the crew fearful of what he would do next- or at least that's what Marcela hypothesized. She knew that she was certainly anxious over what he would do. She didn't understand Javier's reasoning behind throwing her overboard, but at the moment he seemed to be someone she could trust more than she could trust Armando. The curse had changed him. She was certain of that. Of course she hadn't known him well before the curse, but she found it hard to believe that any self-respecting man would put another being through torture and watch with such cruel dead eyes.

Javier's hand was salvageable. Of course it wouldn't heal, but it was still partially connected to his arm. Barros had assured them that he thought Javier would be fine. He really didn't know to be honest. He'd never had to treat dead men's wounds before this. Healing seemed to be something that was beyond their capabilities. It was all new ground even for the experienced surgeon.

Javier hadn't said a word. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He had thought his actions to be the right choice at the moment. Marcela seemed to be a threat and if the captain didn't plan to be rid of her then Javier decided that he would do it for him. But he hadn't accounted for the possibility that Marcela was genuinely there to help them. He hadn't thought of the probability that she was actually an asset to the crew, even if she could be a bit distracting at times. Javier had thought her his enemy and there they were sitting together as she changed the bandages on his wrist. It seemed futile as nothing was clean on the wrecked ship, but Barros had insisted that the wound be kept clean. Javier wasn't a surgeon, so he went with it.

"Marcela... I'm sorry," Javier said finally. The siren's fingers paused in bandaging his wound up- but only for a moment. This had taken her by surprise. An apology was not something that she was used to receiving. It was nice.

"I don't understand why you tried to kill me. But I suppose I can't fault you for being wary of me." She murmured.

"You're not angry?" Javier asked, furrowing his brow.

"What good would it do, Javier? We're trapped here. There's enough ill will on this ship as it is... and as much as I'd like to be angry with you, you've already gotten a much worse punishment than you deserve. If we are to leave this place with our collective sanity intact, then we must not fight amongst ourselves."

Marcela didn't want to admit for a moment, just a brief moment, that seeing Javier in pain brought her some small joy. she'd chalked it up to the curse and forced it out of her mind. It wasn't something she wanted to face; not while they were all stuck there together. What was this curse doing to all of them? There was so much rage and hatred everywhere. Marcela feared it would destroy them sooner or later.

Suddenly there was a loud rumbling. It shook the remnants of the ship and alarmed everyone. Darkness was replaced by a near blinding light as the rock edifice around them toppled. It was as though they'd taken a breath of fresh air. The crew all closed their eyes and reveled in the warm embrace of the sun. For the first time in thirty years, they saw the light. It was more beautiful than any of them remembered.

"Jack Sparrow has given away the compass. We are free!" Armando called followed by the uproarious cry of the crew.

Marcela knew by the look on Armando's face that vengeance was the first thing on his mind. As he took the wheel for the first time in three decades, a new sense of purpose filled them. This was far from over. No, this was only the beginning. The Silent Mary lurched forward and sailed off into the horizon. It was time to hunt a Sparrow.


	22. Chapter 22: Unfortunate Circumstances

Stagnation had been so prevalent in their lives up until the moment in which they had been set free. The hunt for Jack Sparrow was on, but Marcela wasn't certain she wanted them to find that pirate. What would they do once they killed the man? Would that break their curse? Could their curse even be broken? It had already taken so much of their humanity from them and if they were fated to sail the seas forever, Marcela feared they would end up in a similar situation to Davy Jones. He'd been a man once but after decades of sailing the Flying Dutchman, he'd become something unrecognizable from what he once was. What if that happened to them?

She had to admit that the salty air and feeling of the wind in her hair was a huge comfort to her. Even if the sun did little to warm her skin as it once did, it was better than darkness afforded by the Triangle.

Marcela's eyes were trained on the infinite horizon before them. She didn't know what to think about the situation she'd found herself swept up into. What did Armando think was going to happen? Jack Sparrow could be anywhere if he were even still alive. They could search the seas forever and never find the man. She shifted to watch Armando as she tended to do. What was becoming of them? She'd thought about that many times and it still haunted her.

The sun was high in the cloudless sky. It was so bright that it almost burned her. Still, she was thankful for it over darkness. She was thankful to see anything other than the rock edifice that had enclosed them for decades. Even the monotony of the everlasting sea was a welcome sight. They hadn't seen a ship in days, but that was about to change. Marcela noticed it almost right away. It was a lovely ship with red sails. A brig, perhaps. Truth be told, Marcela had no idea what type of ship it was, nor did she particularly care. The ship before them was almost as beautiful as the Silent Mary was back in her day. Perhaps her the crew were a bit biased, but no ship could hold a candle to the Mary.

Capitan! The ship sails toward us," Lesaro was the second to notice the ship. He pointed a bony finger of his good hand over at the ship. Of course Armando hadn't completely forgiven him for what had happened, but he had bigger things to do than continually punish a man who had already been punishing himself. The Sparrow awaited and once they were human again, he would deal with Lesaro- or at least that's what he told himself. Armando took over control of the ship. Marcela watched him. The sound of his raspy breathing killed her. She knew it had to be difficult for him. Armando expertly sailed the ship toward their rival as they intended to use the Mary to completely decimate the ship before them. The ship rose up like an angry animal ready to attack before an unforgettable voice rang out.

"Capitan Salazar! I hear you be lookin' for Jack Sparrow!" There was a man who stood at the bow of the ship. He looked unafraid.

The Mary paused and there was a loud thud as Armando jumped down onto the ship on which the human crew stood. He was followed by his undead crew. Their ghastly appearances seemed to jar the humans before them. And why wouldn't they? It wasn't every day anyone saw the dead walking about with the living.

"Hold point! And await orders!" Lesaro barked as the crew drew their weapons on the living. They were backed into corners and most were terrified for good reason.

Marcela watched from her spot on the Mary. She couldn't ever forget that man's voice. And as she heard it, a boiling rage she'd never felt before rose within her. That man down there was Hector Barbossa. Marcela gnashed her teeth angrily and leaped down as well. There was this intense impulse to just kill the man. But as she stared him in his blue eyes, she wasn't even sure that he remembered her or what he'd done to her.

Barbossa seemed to be having second thoughts as the labored breathing of Armando Salazar drew near. His eyes locked with Marcela's momentarily before he turned to the Spanish Captain. Armando came face to face with Barbossa as he tended to do.

"My name's Captain Barbossa. I stand before you with cordial intent," Hector said. Marcela had imagined that he was gathering up all the courage he could muster. Of course, the man had never been afraid of death in his youth and he'd only gotten more haggard as time went on.

"Cordial intent. Do you hear that?! This pirate wishes to be cordial. So let me show you what my cordiality is, hombre. Every time I tap my sword, one of your men will die. So I suggest you speak quickly," Armando smirked slightly before he tapped his sword against the deck once. A cry rang out as one life was taken. This didn't faze Marcela as much as it should have. She had been stewing in her anger with Hector Barbossa. Of course, she'd figured out long ago that the curse had a way of bringing out the worst in people. She was no exception. Forgiveness was the furthest thing from her mind. In fact, nothing would make her happier than to kill the man herself.

"Oh just kill him, Armando. He is as worthless now as he was in his youth," Marcela spat.

"Now now, mi alma. We may find a use for him. Even if his only usefulness is fodder for the sharks," Armando said in an almost soothing voice. He gave Marcela a brief but loving look and that was all it took to calm her for the moment. It gave her hope that somewhere inside of him, the old Armando was still alive.

"Might want to go a bit faster, capitan," Armando smirked more and tapped his sword against the deck two more times. And thus, two more lives were lost.

"Where is Jack Sparrow?!" Armando growled, rounding back on Hector.

"Jack be sailin' for the trident," Hector responded. He didn't seem at all fazed by the killing of three of his men. Life seemed to be as expendable to Hector Barbossa as Marcela remembered.

"No, the sea belongs to the dead," Armando replied. He didn't believe this. The man must have been joking.

"The trident controls the sea-"

"NO! There's no treasure! There's no treasure that can save him! He will die with you!" Armando roared. He pointed his rapier at Hector's throat. The thought of seeing his blood spill all over the deck filled Marcela with glee for a moment, and then she was mildly disgusted with herself.

"I be the only one that can lead you to him!" Barbossa objected in a rush, "I declare that you shall have Jack's life by sunrise on the morrow or you can take me own then. Do we have an accord?" Hector asked. Armando narrowed his eyes for a moment, thinking it over before he let out a little laugh. He got within inches of Hector's face again.

"Take me to him and you will live to tell the tale."

"You have me word. I thank you on behalf of my crew."

Armando only laughed a little in response. He tapped his sword five more times before he was finished with the bloodshed.

"Okay. You can take what's left of them. The living come aboard." Armando announced as he turned away from Hector, leaving only Marcela in the pirate's wake. Hector stared into her yellowed eyes. He could never forget her face.

"Marcela-"

"I hope you rot," she interrupted him and hastily made her way back to Armando. Marcela wasn't exactly sure what they were going to do about this trident. She'd heard of it before, but had never really given it much thought. Perhaps it was their way out. But she did know one thing, Hector Barbossa had better make himself useful before he found himself with her sword at his back.


	23. Chapter 23: The Dawn

It had been years since a living person had stepped foot aboard the Silent Mary. Marcela wasn't quite sure what to think of any of it. The more that she pondered it, the more she'd come to realize that Armando's goals were geared toward revenge instead of freeing themselves. She'd begun to wonder if he knew what was best for his crew and what was best for himself anymore. She'd understood for a long while that his mind had been clouded by the curse, but not to what extent. He'd never been particularly guilt-ridden over the extermination of pirates, but what he'd done aboard the other ship earlier bothered Marcela to some extent.

She stood on the starboard side of the ship watching the waves absently. Hector had until sunrise to find Sparrow and as much as Marcela had to admit that she would like to see him run through with Armando's rapier, she wanted Armando back more than her own desire for revenge. According to the compass Hector possessed, Jack Sparrow wasn't far off. It would seem that the people whom Jack had been sailing with had a better clue as to where the trident was than they did.

There were uneven footsteps behind her and for just a moment, she thought perhaps it was Armando, but upon turning around she couldn't help but scowl.

"You look almost disgustingly decadent for a pirate," she frowned, eyeing him as though everything from the feather on his hat to his peg leg were insulting her. There was that feeling again of hot rage rising up within her like when an unwatched pot filled with water boiled over. But what was she to do? For the moment, they needed him. Without Hector there was no compass and with no compass, no Sparrow... no Sparrow... no trident.

Hector let out a barking laugh, flashing his rotting teeth. It would seem awful things had become of just about everyone she knew. The boy she'd once cared for had turned into something perhaps just a hair shy of a man. His face had become weathered by the unforgiving sun and the harsh winds of the sea. His leg which once supported him had been replaced by wood. He'd become scarred and haggard in ways she'd never imagined for Hector.

"What do you want, Hector...?" Marcela sighed. She had much more important things to worry about than an old flame. This didn't just come down to Armando. It was all of them and as much as she loved the man, the rest of the crew had families they hadn't seen in 30 years. Many of their wives and even children were probably gone, but that didn't stop her. Something had to give... there had to be a way to bring life back into them.

"I shouldn't have given ya up..." Hector said after a moment. Marcela's eyes widened. She didn't know what she had expected, but it definitely wasn't an apology... if you could call what he'd said an apology.

"It's a little late for that, Hector," She frowned at him.

"I be a pirate. Gold be all that glitters..." Hector was quiet for a moment, thinking about what he wanted to say, "But I'm sorry fer sellin' ya out..." He finished.

"You're sorry? I'm not an object, Hector. I'm not some prized possession to be traded between men like gold! You say you're sorry but I'm not sure that I believe you! If I had my way, you would be dead. But Armando needs you... for now. Once we find the trident, I could not care less about what you do. I cared about you. But that was long ago. I have bigger things to worry about than you."

Marcela trudged off. She hadn't meant all those words. She wanted to believe that Hector regretted what he'd done, but something inside of herself wouldn't let her. Was she really angry about this, or was it just the curse? It didn't make sense to her. She watched Armando at the helm as she had countless times before. Her heart ached for him.

What were they doing? They were on a quest to kill a man who had wronged them 30 years ago. It didn't make sense to her. So far, she'd just gone along with it because she didn't know what else to do. But perhaps if she could get her hands on the trident, she could break Armando's curse and make him see reason. Marcela took several glances between Armando and the sea. If she continued in the direction they were sailing, she could probably find Jack Sparrow. She could help them all more if she found Jack before Armando did and managed to kill him.

She bit her lip. This was such a difficult decision to make, but it seemed to her that she had no other choice. With one last fleeting glance at Armando, Marcela dove down into the ocean with one goal in mind. She had to find Jack before Armando did.


	24. Chapter 24: Fury

It had taken several hours for Armando to realize his siren had gone. He'd searched the ship high and low but there was no sign of her. He let out an angry roar into the sky. The sun was well on its way to descending below the horizon and his patience was wearing thin. He had seen Barbossa talking to Marcela. He knew that Hector was the last one to see her and Armando wanted to know exactly what it was that Hector had said to her... he wanted to kill the man. But for the moment, Armando needed him. And that infuriated him.

How could she just leave him? Where could she have gone? She hadn't even said goodbye... and he'd been so absorbed in finding Jack Sparrow that he hadn't even realized her absence before it was too late. Armando hung his head in defeat. He didn't know what happened to her, but he did know one thing. He was looking forward to the dawn when he could soak his sword with the blood of all the pirates he'd begrudgingly welcomed on board.

For that moment, however even as much as it pained him, he continued on with his search for Jack Sparrow. His supernatural drive to kill the man superseded his need to find Marcela. Once Jack Sparrow lay dead, then he would set out to find her and nothing would stop him.

By the time Marcela spotted another ship, the sun was high in the sky. The day was already halfway over... but it seemed to her that she'd caught up with Jack Sparrow before Armando had managed to get his hands on him. She was tired and ready to rest, but after catching the first glimpse at the Dying Gull, Marcela had the drive to push herself just a little bit longer. After a few minutes, she was able to grab hold of a rope hanging down from the hull and hoist herself up. She looked behind her and sighed. She'd left a trail of inky blood behind her. Marcela could only hope that it had washed away in the waves before Armando had caught on to where she was going.

"Carina, we haven't got much time. The dead are sailing straight for us," came the voice of a young boy. Marcela poked her head above to get a peek at just who inhabited this ship. It was the boy she'd seen! This must have been the right ship. He was tied to the mast along with a girl in a baby blue dress. She was beautiful with long dark hair that was set in curls. And she didn't seem at all pleased with the situation. Over to her right were a small gaggle of pirates and among them the one she recognized as Jack Sparrow. He'd aged quite a bit. The young boy she'd seen so long ago had turned into an older man. Somehow, he'd managed to avoid being killed.

"Is that so?" The girl named Carina asked, staring off into the horizon.

"Yes, I've spoken to them." Henry countered.

"You've spoken to them? Have you also spoken to the Krakens and mermaids as well?" Carina turned her head back to get a glimpse of the boy.

"Krakens don't speak everyone knows that-"

"Of course, I never should have saved you." Carina scowled. Marcela frowned. The girl didn't believe in her. Well she would just have to fix that. She pulled herself up onto the deck.

"Well I can't attest to Krakens but he has spoken to the dead and the sirens..." Her fins flopped on the deck slightly as she waited for herself to dry off. Both Carina and Henry's eyes widened.

"It's you..." Henry breathed.

"You're a mermaid!" Carina exclaimed in disbelief.

"Actually, I prefer siren..." Marcela rolled her eyes and sat up as her scales receded back to legs. She pulled on one of Armando's old shirts and stretched out.

"How is this even possible?" Carina asked, staring at Marcela. Thus far, none of the pirates had noticed her. Marcela figured they were all drunk... or didn't care.

"Listen, none of that matters right now. I'm here to save someone I love..." Marcela sighed.

"Last night there was a blood moon just as you described. Tell me what it revealed." Henry said after a long silence between the three of them.

"And why should I trust either of you?" Carina countered irritably.

"You trusted me to hold your port, remember?"

"That was my stern. Clearly you need to spend more time at sea."

"Tell me what you found and I promise to help you."

"I don't need any help." They bantered back and forth.

"Alright this needs to stop. Clearly you both need help because you're currently tied to a mast sailed by drunken pirates. And I need your help." She gave them both a sharp look which quieted them both down.

"Why would you need our help? Clearly you're a figment of my imagination brought on by dehydration..." Carina replied, giving her an even sharper look.

"If I'm a figment of your imagination, then telling me wouldn't do any harm would it?" Carina seemed to think on this for a moment before she replied.

"The moon revealed a clue... To release the power of the sea, one must divide."

"Divide? That isn't much to go off of. Divide what?" Marcela frowned. This didn't seem to be getting her anywhere really.

"What does it mean?" Henry asked.

"I'm not sure yet." Carina replied sullenly.

"Then we'll find out..."

It was then that the pirates finally noticed Marcela and hurried over.


	25. Chapter 25: Meeting The Sparrow

Loud footsteps sounded behind Marcela as the Sparrow approached. He seemed to have blinders on as he hadn't said anything about her yet. He was very concerned with a book he had in his hands. Behind him were a ragtag band of other pirates, none of which Marcela really cared to know about. Though, they did notice her and kept their distance. It would seem to her that this wasn't their first run in with the undead, and they were rightfully hesitant to approach her.

"There is no map in this map!" Jack frowned, holding the book up to Carina.

"Er... captain..." One of the crew members managed to finally squeak out. They were nervous as well as they should have been. It wasn't often that the dead walked among the living. And the blood that constantly poured from her stomach wound must have been rather frightening.

"Oh. OH! Bugger!" Jack jumped as soon as he'd laid eyes on her cracked pale skin and oozing abdominal cavity. Marcela couldn't help but roll her eyes at the man. And then she wondered if he even remembered her or what he'd done that made her that way.

"I know you. You were with er... Spanish," Jack pointed at her, putting it all together in his head. He'd seen her on the ship that day. It was so long ago, but other than looking dead the woman hadn't aged a bit. But why had she come there? And if she was free, then it meant that the Spanish captain was free as well. It really put into perspective the sense of urgency that he was feeling because if he couldn't get to the trident in time, then he was sure that he was going to be killed... and Jack Sparrow fully intended to live forever. But this woman was something he would have to deal with in a moment. He needed to find that map. He needed to find that trident.

"Give me my diary," Carina sighed, exasperated at the scoundrels she was surrounded by. Jack only pulled the diary away from her though it wasn't as though she could snatch it out of his hands seeing as she was bound to the mast.

"Give me the map no man can read," Jack countered.

"If you could read it, then it wouldn't be called the map that no man can read," Carina smirked slightly. Her mannerisms were familiar to Marcela... And her eyes were almost the same as looking into Hector's. Her hair had that same curl to it as his once had. But Carina was beautiful and Hector, well... he'd been relatively handsome once, but years of seafaring had given him a rather haggard appearance. Marcela wasn't certain, but this girl did remind her of Hector in some ways. But perhaps she was just mistaking the bright blue hue of her eyes for something more.

"I beg you please don't argue with her," Henry said. It did seem futile, the girl had some wit to her. It was refreshing, especially considering that most women tended to be uneducated.

"Most of the men on this ship can't read. Which makes all maps the map that no man can read," Jack said. He still hadn't seemed to acknowledge her, and if he did notice her, he wasn't saying anything.

"Well if you can't read it then you have no use for it, or me." Carina seemed to be rather proud of herself. It didn't seem hard for her to outsmart the men.

"Let me start again. Show me the map," Jack begged. Well it wasn't quite begging yet, but he was getting impatient. The scene was rather comical to watch and Marcela had forgotten for a moment that she wasn't really supposed to be there.

"I can't. It doesn't yet exist," Carina explained.

"She's a witch!" The bald dwarf exclaimed.

"I'm an astronomer!" Countered Carina.

"Ah, ah. She breeds donkeys," Said one of the crew members. He had longer hair lightened by countless days in the sun and he, too was on his way to sporting a rough weathered face and contracting scurvy.

"What? No. An astronomer contemplates the sky!"

"Yeah, on a donkey!"

"No, there's no donkey!"

Well then how do you breed them?"

"Allow me to simplify this question. Give me the map, or I will kill..." Jack seemed to need to think about it for a moment. He couldn't kill the girl and it didn't really seem the girl was worried about being killed, "him. Or I'll kill him." Carina seemed to consider it for a moment as she stared up at him with her cerulean eyes.

"Go on then. You're bluffing." She stood up to the pirate.

"And you're blushing," Jack grinned. Marcela rolled her eyes once more. It was hard to believe that someone like him managed to trap the most infamous pirate hunter in all the seas. He seemed to be an imbecile.

"Throw him over," Jack tilted his head to look at his crew who immediately jumped into action. Marcela watched passively as they gagged and bound him.

"We call this keel hauling. Young Henry will be tossed over and he will be dragged under the ship," Jack watched as the crew cackled and brought Henry over to be thrown overboard. But it seemed that they had forgotten. If they threw him overboard, Marcela could just jump in the water and bring him right back up. He wasn't in much danger... well aside from Marcela possibly trying to eat him, that is.

"Alright," Carina replied. She'd been freed of the ropes binding her to the mast, "What are you waiting for?" She asked.

"He doesn't appear to be-" a gag was shoved in Henry's mouth as he struggled against them.

"No, not bluffing, me. He's trying to say something," Jack grinned again. It was a little unsettling that he could be so smiley during the process of possibly killing a man, though she'd experienced far worse with Armando. The man he'd turned into would do just the same thing.

"No, no we don't have any food on board, sorry" he continued just before they threw Henry over the railing. Carina started forward only to be stopped by one of the crew members who stood next to her.

"If he's lucky he'll drown before the barnacles shred him to ribbon," commented the older man at the helm of the ship.

"Barnacles..." Carina breathed. It seemed that she was really coming to terms with what was happening. Henry would possibly die...

"Like a thousand knives across your back. And of course, the blood attracts sharks," Jack explained.

Marcela went and looked over the side. If Henry was truly in danger, she supposed that she could jump in and save him, but first they needed this map. For once, she was on the side of the pirates. The girl needed to spill her secrets or else nothing good would come of this.

"Sharks?" Carina asked, growing a little more nervous.

"Shark off the bow!" Called the older man who had been steering the ship.

"Where?" Carina asked.

"I would say that swimming is no longer his primary concern," Jack slurred slightly. Marcela's nose wrinkled. She knew she'd smelled rum, but it hadn't hit her until that moment exactly how drunk this man might have been.

"The map is there!" Carina cried, pointing up into the sky. Everyone looked up in confusion.

"Where?" Jack asked.

"On the tip of your finger?"

"No. In the heavens. That diary will lead me to a map hidden in the stars. Let him up. I'll find it tonight." Carina confessed.

"Sorry, can't bring him up," Jack said with a shake of his head, "look for yourself."

Carina rushed to the side of the ship and to her surprise, Henry was in no danger at all. He'd landed on the dingy floating just beside the ship.

"As I said! Blushing!" There was a roar of laughter from the ship's small crew.

And it was then that Jack remembered the dead woman on his ship. He turned to her and jumped slightly at her appearance. If this was what she looked like, then he didn't want to think about what that Spanish Captain looked like.

"Come to exact your revenge upon me, love?" Jack asked, leaning against the railing of the ship.

"I'm here to save us all. And that includes you even if I don't believe you deserve saving. He's coming for, Jack Sparrow, and nothing will stop him," Marcela turned away from him and looked out to the sea.

"He's got the compass, Jack. You can't hide from us. There is no corner of the Earth that you can go to that will save you. The trident is our only hope... of saving you, all the people you know, and everyone I care about." Marcela ran her fingers over the rough wood at the port side of the Dying Gull.

Jack seemed to mull this over. Things seemed grave, indeed. But he thought he understood what was going on. He knew that look Marcela had in her eyes. It was the look of a woman in love. She hoped to save him, that captain. But what lengths would she go to in order to do it? Jack wasn't sure he completely understood what it was that this siren thought she was going to do. But he had seen what determined women could do and if she could stop the captain from trying to kill him, then he supposed that he couldn't argue with that. For that moment, he would go along with this just to see where it went.


	26. Chapter 26: The Stars

The sun had set and the stars had finally come out. The crew of the Dying Gull were all thankful that the night was clear. Carina could read the stars and bring them closer to the Trident. The ship was quiet save Jack's incessant snoring. It was almost nice. Marcela could remember spending nights like this with Armando long ago. The thought made her feel sad and wistful. For the moment, all that she could do was sit and wait. It made her apprehensive and rethink her decision. Armando was sure to be angry that she'd left. But it was for his own good. She needed to break their curse and the only way to do that was to find the trident before he did.

In his rage, she knew he would use it for the wrong thing. Of course, she wouldn't mind the extermination of pirates all over the seas... but first and foremost came their humanity. Marcela longed to go to Spain with Armando and see just how people lived on land. But even more than that, she wanted Armando back. He'd been slipping away through her fingers like sand. It had become impossible to hold everything together. Marcela feared that if she wasn't quick, there wouldn't be much of Armando left when he finally returned to her.

Marcela watched absently as Henry spoke with Jack, only half listening to the conversation. She didn't particularly care as long as things didn't get out of hand... which they did when Henry drew a sword against Jack.

"Like it or not, Jack, you're going to help me," Henry scowled, "I will break my father's curse!"

There was the distinct sound, the cocking of a gun. Marcela sighed, about ready to intervene. She stood from her spot and wandered over to them. She looked ethereal in the moonlight. Everything from her pale skin cracked like an antique doll to her amber eyes were otherworldly though it wasn't the first time that anyone had ever thought that, it was the first time that the gravity of this had hit them all. They were in a race against the dead for control of the sea...

"Next time you raise a sword, boy. Be the last to die," Jack said seriously. Henry seemed to consider it for a moment before putting the rusty sword away. This was the sort of thing that she'd gotten used to in all her years of living with pirates, and also the sort of thing that she'd hoped she'd never have to be a part of again.

Armando had always been good; and Marcela was sure that there was still good in him even if he didn't show it as much lately. So, when did they become the antagonists in all of this? She had always regarded him as lawful and gentlemanly even with his ruthless approach to pirates. Armando seemed to be all that was good and benevolent, at least to Marcela. This curse left her reeling with more questions than she had answers to. Pirates had always been the bad guys... the enemy. She had never allowed herself to see it any other way. But these people weren't so bad. Jack was of course a bumbling idiot in her mind and she didn't have a clue as to how he was still alive, but Henry and Carina didn't deserve to be caught up in all of this. But still that question remained, who was the antagonist? Jack Sparrow, the pirate who had killed everyone she'd come to live, couldn't possibly be the hero... but then again... couldn't he be?

The sun had begun its ascent into the sky. Armando had been anxiously waiting to see that ship on the horizon... the ship that he had a feeling his siren had hopped to... but he also wanted to see nothing so that he could have the pleasure of gutting Hector Barbossa. The man had wronged Marcela just as Jack had wronged them all. He had seen the spite in her eyes when they had happened upon that pirate, but hadn't quite put it together until he learned the man's name.

"The sun is up. And so is your time," Armando said with impatience. He tapped his sword against the deck and no sooner than that was another sword pressed up against Hector Barbossa's neck.

"Not to disagree, but the precision of our accord ends at sunrise. This be but first light. Far from a fully rising sun. And I know you to be a man of honor," Hector plead. Armando enjoyed seeing the slight panic in the pirate's eyes. His time was coming. There wasn't much that could stop that once he'd crossed paths with the Matador Del Mar.

"Honor... you know nothing of me," Armando turned his back on Hector. Lightning struck around them as their perpetual storm raged. It followed them everywhere, a looming cloud of doom which signaled their arrival... and the arrival of death.

"I know what it's like to be bested by Jack Sparrow," Hector reasoned, "he's an enemy to us both."

"You don't know who I am!" Armando growled, turning back to Hector and limping ever closer until his face was but inches from Barbossa.

"I've heard stories of a mighty Spanish captain. El Matador Del Mar. A man who scours the sea. Hunted and killed thousands of men," Hector was feeling rather uncomfortable between the sword at his neck and the heavy labored breathing of the captain before him. On one side of him was death... and on the other side of him was also death. There was no escape it seemed, unless he managed to appease the dead man.

"No no no no no. men, no. Pirates, eh? Pirates." Armando turned away from Hector to face the bow of the ship. He looked toward the horizon, at the sunrise in a reverie.

"Pirates had infected the seas for generations. Taken the life of my father and his father before. So I vowed to end this plague once and for all. And that is what I did. I destroyed dozens of ships. That is how I found her... trapped by pirates. Trapped by you. I took her in and she promised to help us in return. I never thought that I would love her... that the thought of losing her would cause me so much pain... The last pirates joined together to try and defeat me. But they soon realized it was hopeless. Nothing could stop the Silent Mary. The sea was finally... pure. Their wretched flags would no longer stain the sea. The last of their ships were burning before my eyes... and in the moment of... victory... it's when I heard it. One ship was trying to escape through the smoke. And there in the crow's nest, there was this young pirate boy. He stood there looking like.. like a little bird, "Armando flapped his hands slightly to mimic the flight of a bird.

"And from that moment he earned himself a name that would haunt me for the rest of my days. Jack the Sparrow... This boy... this boy was mocking my power so I chased him. Marcela begged me not to but I could not listen knowing that I would run my knife along his neck and when he was dead, I would finish finally with pirate's life," Armando was anguished to tell this story. It wasn't something he ever imagined he would have to recount to anyone.

"He took everything from me... and filled me with... rage... and pain." Armando limped around and stopped behind Hector, "and here is where the tale ends..." Armando unsheathed his rapier and pointed it at the back of Hector's neck.

"Not yet, capitán... there. Found as promised, " Hector pointed. Far off in the horizon there was a ship... Armando lowered his rapier. Marcela was there... he could feel it. This was it, he was going to get her back and kill Jack Sparrow. Armando knew that much.


	27. Chapter 27: The Chase

The sun had risen once again as it always did. In the distance, Marcela could see that familiar ship she'd spent so much time on and her heart wrenched with yearning. Even then, when she had a goal to complete, the thought of turning back was almost too much to bear. He would have thought she had betrayed him, and she only hoped that he would forgive her and come to see reason. All things the siren did were to save him.

"So she's saying she's got the map, but she's the only one who can follow it?" Asked the older fellow who manned the helm. Marcela had come to know him as Gibbs. Though he was a detestable pirate, the years had seemed to make him wise and almost fatherly. She supposed the if she liked any of them, she would like him the most. The others, the pirates at least, seemed to all be idiots. They were all gathered together discussing their next move; a thing that seemed to be easier said than done.

"So we should-"

"Leave her be. She will take us to the Trident," Henry interrupted, turning toward the lot of them.

"You've been saying that for hours," Gibbs shot back.

"Two things we know are true, the stars don't shine by day, and she forgot a donkey," chimed in the long-haired pirate. More proof that Marcela was surrounded by ignorant pirates...

"How can we go to a spot where no land exists on any map?" Gibbs asked. Carina seemed to get irritated. She turned, holding up what looked to be a pocket watch in her hand.

"This chronometer keeps the exact time in London. I'm using it to make an altitude measurement to determine longitude. Only then will we find our exact spot at sea," She explained.

"So you expect to find the Trident with a timepiece?" Asked a middle-aged man in a tricorn hat.

"Yes," Carina sighed, "My calculations are precise and true. I'm not only an astronomer. I'm also a horologist."

Marcela rolled her eyes at the stir that her words caused. Though she wasn't at all sure what Carina meant by that, she was certain that it didn't implicate what the men on the ship seemed to think. This was all pointless. Marcela turned away from their blabbering about horology and watched the horizon. She supposed that she should tell them that the Silent Mary was closing in on them... but Gibbs beat her to it.

"It's the Silent Mary. Armando has found us," Marcela turned to Carina, "You had better hurry or you're all dead." Carina didn't reply. She hadn't been acknowledging her as she still seemed to believe Marcela was just a figment of her imagination. Marcela supposed that she couldn't fault her. This woman seemed to be so enthralled with science and the study of anything measurable that it must have been difficult to understand something so supernatural as a curse of the undead.

Everyone's head turned to look at the ship with the broken mast that still sailed straight toward them. A sense of dread settled over the inhabitants of the Dying Gull. They were running out of time and fast.

"Salazar... Jack the dead will not rest until they get their revenge," Henry asserted.

"Dead?" Jack asked.

"I'm right here!" Marcela shouted and scowled over the uproar that came over the men. They hadn't planned on another bout with the undead, but how had they not figured that out considering they'd spent the past several days sitting next to one of the dead.

"Right that it. Kill them all." Guns and swords were brandished at them all, even Marcela who just rolled her eyes once again. She couldn't care less what they did... but she needed Carina alive to find the Trident.

"Kill me and I'll... I'll be dead. And then the other dead won't be able to have their revenge... against me. I'll be dead," Jack said. He'd been making this all up as he went. But it worked.

"Which will anger them even more. He's right." Henry interjected.

"Armando won't stop until Jack is dead. I have seen him take down ship after ship... Can you imagine how angry he would be if that were to be taken from him? But then again... what do I know? I've only spent thirty years with the man..." Marcela eyed them all.

"Are all pirates this stupid?" Carina asked irritably, looking between them.

"Yes," chorused everyone on board. Marcela nodded at the girl, though she refused to acknowledge her presence. It seemed Carina had been adamant to just look right through her, which was annoying but what could Marcela do short of literally shaking the girl.

"What are we going to do?" Gibbs asked, gun still out and at the ready.

"...As captain... Might I suggest... Mutiny?"

And that's how they ended up on a dinghy heading toward an island which Marcela wasn't even certain she could step foot on. What was the use in this? Everyone aside from Henry and Carina seemed to be complete imbeciles and Carina still thought Marcela was imaginary.

"Mutiny... Mutiny!" Marcela grumbled, crossing her arms over her bloody chest. Her yellow eyes were narrowed at Jack Sparrow. Now she could see why Armando wanted to kill the man. He was infuriating!

"Mutiny. You had to suggest a mutiny," Carina echoed as they rowed toward the shore.

"Carina, the dead are coming," Henry said once again.

"Well I choose not to believe in supernatural nonsense," Carina shook her head.

"Do you not see what's behind us?!" Henry argued to which they all looked back at the Silent Mary behind them.

"We are out of time. The dead are not coming. We're here," Marcela frowned. She could see him but just barely. He was far away but Marcela could recognize that hulking figure anywhere. Armando was watching them and just waiting for them to run out of places to run.


	28. Chapter 28: Shark Attack

Marcela knew what would happen next as Armando turned from them. They would seek to drive them out, and block their escape. It made her wonder what had happened once she'd jumped ship. Had Armando blamed Hector or Antonio for her sudden departure? Of course she didn't give a damn about Hector, but the thought of him blaming Antonio made her heart hurt just a little bit more for them.

Suddenly, Carina stood and began began undressing. Marcela knew that it was doubtful that they would ever be able to outrun the sharks and that they wouldn't go after her because well... she was dead, too.

"What are you doing?" Henry asked.

"The men on that ship are looking for Jack. And Jack is on this boat. I'm going to swim for it." Carina explained, continuing to unbutton her dress.

"You'll never be able to outswim them... Sharks can swim quite fast," Marcela mumbled.

"How dare you do exactly what I would do if I were you?" Jack frowned, gazing up at Carina.

"Carina, stop," Henry begged. He didn't know what Marcela was talking about, but up until this point, the dead siren had been right about a good many things.

"No no no no, don't stop!" Jack countered.

"This has gone far enough!"

"No it has not. Listen not to him. Carry on. Carry on."

Carina didn't listen to either of him. Instead, she dove off the boat and into the sea. Marcela's brows knit together. What was she to do? She could aid Carina to shore. That was exactly what she needed to do. Carina was the only one that could find the map. Both Jack and Henry were expendable, unfortunately. Perhaps that was the curse talking, however. When she'd been alive, she wouldn't have had to think twice about saving Henry. The boy was young and good and had so much potential in him to be a good man.

But then... on the other hand she could return to Armando. Marcela knew he had to be angry. She would have been angry. But it had become too late for any of that. The sharks had approached. Henry stood and began taking off his overcoat. He was just about to dive in when one of the sharks flew up and nearly grabbed him, but Jack had pulled him back just in time. Another shark bit off a sizeable chink off the boat. There were three of them circling the boat with one thing in mind and Marcela could only guess what it was: to kill Jack Sparrow.

Henry brandished an oar which would do him no good. The sharks were dead. They felt nothing and did only Armando's bidding. The hammerhead bit off a chunk of the port side of the boat. Henry cried out and smacked the animal in the head with his oar which didn't do much as it got stuck in the shark's head. Henry tried hard to pull the oar free but only managed to throw himself into the water. Marcela's eyes widened and without thinking, she jumped in, herself. She had barely grabbed the boy and shoved him back on board before the Great White had jumped right over the boat.

"Marcela!" Henry cried, attempting to reach for her to which she shook her head.

"They will not hurt me. Go. Get to shore quickly. They're coming!" Marcela urged. But their boat was taking on water faster than they could bail it out. And it was then that the crew of the Silent Mary jumped down and onto the water. They walked on it like it was earth and began sprinting toward them.

"How do they do that?" Jack asked. He didn't seem to be worried at all that he was about to be murdered either by sharks or Armando.

"We have to swim!" Henry cried, standing up, "I will distract them." He took his coat and threw it over. It attracted the sharks like moths to a flame.

"Now!" Henry called and jumped overboard as the sharks were busy attacking his coat. Jack got up and attempted to jump in but his foot got caught in the boat. Armando and the crew closed in as Marcela watched helplessly. And then the sharks were back again. Just as Armando reached Jack, he threw a grappling hook in one of the sharks' mouths and it took off, pulling him toward the land. A strong arm scooped Marcela up as they ran. She could remember that harsh breathing anywhere. Armando had found her. And it didn't seem he was too keen on letting her go.

Marcela flopped and struggled against him as he held her. Her fins splashed in the water as she pushed against him, begging the man to let her go. She had to find the Trident to save them all, but Armando only shushed her in response. They had closed in on the island where the three living had washed ashore. They had effectively cornered them and Marcela worried that they would never find the trident...

"Aye... Jack Sparrow," Armando was pleased with himself. He'd killed two birds with one stone. Marcela was back where she belonged and Jack Sparrow's head was about to be where it belonged: liberated from his body.

"Jack the Sparrow," Armando tilted his head and almost smiled at the man. Marcela turned to look at him. She could tell he was angry, but he was about to get what he'd been yearning for for thirty years.

"Spanish?" Jack, inched back from the dead crew before him.

It was then that one of the crew cried out. He'd gotten too close to land and disintegrated in a puff of black smoke which effectively scared everyone- save Armando- out of their wits. They backed away from the shore line, leaving Marcela and Armando in the forefront.

"Ohhh... They are unable to step on land. Hahaha. I knew that!" Jack grinned, getting up triumphantly. As long as he stayed on that island, no harm could come to him, or so he thought.

"Ghosts! Ghosts!" Carina cried, hastily running from them and into the jungle followed by Henry.

"Oh so now she believes..." Marcela rolled her eyes, having given up on escaping from Armando's grasp.

"You will soon pay for what you did to me... to us," Armando drawled, his yellowed eyes not leaving Jack.

"No no no, there is no need to bother, really," Jack stumbled, "I have no time to chat because my map just ran away."

"We will be waiting. For you," Armando smiled and pointed his cane at Jack who turned and ran from them.

Marcela sighed as Carina, Henry, and Jack disappeared into the jungle. What was she to do now? All seemed lost, and sooner or later, she would have to deal with Armando which Marcela was certain would not be very pleasant.


	29. Chapter 29: Bleed Out

Armando didn't say a word to Marcela as he dragged her back to the Silent Mary. The tension between them was so thick that she felt it could be cut with a knife. And so Marcela elected to stop struggling against him. She knew that look on his face as she'd spent 30 years studying every little crack of his skin and all the subtle nuances of his various postures and movements. The man always held himself tall and in high regard... but she could see it in his eyes that she'd caused him pain. Armando was hurt.

He set her down on a barrel and went to see to the crew members who had been stringing Hector and the few men that remained of his crew. She might have felt bad for them, but at the moment Marcela had bigger things to worry about. There appeared to be no way for them to access dry land without disintegrating. It seemed they were at an impasse. Jack and his company could very well live out the rest of their days on that island. It would likely be boring and the coward's way out, but it was a possibility Marcela had to account for.

Hector had been trying to talk Armando down but for the moment, his pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears. Armando was making his way down the line disemboweling the living as he came to them. Cries filled the air as he came closer and closer to the captain. Marcela watched passively. He could turn his rapier on her, but that wouldn't do him a lot of good. If he had really wanted to harm her, then he would have done so when they were inches away from land.

"You promised me Jack Sparrow!" Armando spat angrily. It shook Marcela out of her thoughts.

"Jack be trapped! He can never escape that island!" Hector replied hastily to which Armando yelled back, getting a little too close to him as he tended to do.

"It's too late!"

"I upheld our deal! Me men and myself will go ashore. By sundown the traitor will be yours, on me honor," Hector finished, putting his hand over his heart as if to swear allegiance to Armando.

"Honor? What honor, hombre?! What honor?! You don't know what honor is." Armando roared at Hector.

"Spare me my life and I'll fetch you the Sparrow. Do we have an accord?" Hector smiled a tiny bit which caused Marcela's eyes to narrow. Armando had been pacing back and forth angrily. He stopped and seemed to think about this for a moment. Hector cried out as Armando thrust his rapier forward but instead of killing the man, he cut him loose along with what little remained of the living on board.

Marcela watched as they headed back to shore. She felt uneasy as she had no idea what was coming next. She knew she was right. They were all losing themselves slowly but surely to the curse. Armando's anger had reared its ugly head and become increasingly prevalent even since she'd taken off in her failed attempt to find the Trident and break their curse before Armando could kill Jack. It was adding up in her mind that killing Jack Sparrow was a threshold that once passed, could not be returned from. If she could stop him, then maybe she could bring back the man she loved from the dead.

A strong hand gripped her shoulder and whirled her around. Marcela knew who it was before she even saw him. His labored breathing always gave him away. She braced herself against the railing and looked him in the eye. He looked hurt.

They watched each other for a moment before he pulled her in and embraced her. He could feel himself relaxing as her lithe arms slowly wrapped around him. She was safe at least for the moment. However, he was still angry with her. And he was going to let her know all about it.

Armando pulled back with a deep scowl set on his face. He'd never looked at her in such a way in all the thirty years that they had been together. His hands rested firmly on her shoulders as he seemed to check her over. She didn't appear to be hurt which gave him a small amount of comfort.

"Never do that to me again. Do you hear me? I have been lenient with you because I love you. Next time you will not be so lucky. Traitors always find their place at the end of my sword." His words stung her, but in that moment, a little of the Armando she'd grown to love shined through. He brushed some of her hair away from her face.

"It wasn't my intention to betray you... I only wanted to find the Trident. I wanted to break our curse..." She whispered earnestly.

"I did not know where you were! You just left! How am I supposed to feel about that!?" Armando's voice rose slightly. It hadn't occurred to Marcela that her presence might be missed aboard the Mary. She didn't really have anything to say to that. She gazed up at him.

"I want to be free... I want to see Spain. Have a child with you... I don't want to lose you to this curse. I feel you slipping through my fingers." Marcela sighed. She hadn't intended on hurting him. All she'd wanted was to give them all back their humanity.

Armando regarded her for the moment. Though he didn't understand her reasons, he could see that she wasn't lying to him. And even then, she would have to work to regain his trust. They had a lot of work to do if they were going to catch Jack Sparrow... if they were going to be human again. But they were closer to their goal than ever before. He was still upset with her. But that didn't change anything.

Marcela closed her eyes as she felt his rough and large hand cup her cheek. They seemed to have struck an uneasy agreement. But Armando was a lot less angry than she imagined he would be upon her return. Perhaps he was preoccupied with Jack Sparrow... She wasn't sure what she expected. Maybe part of her wondered if he would hurt her. It brought her a whole new appreciation for him that he hadn't. Whens he opened her eyes again, he was walking away from her. Their conversation left her with a feeling of slight confusion and disappointment. Where did this leave them? The Trident was within their grasp, but Armando still sought Jack. It made her wonder where they would go next... and most importantly it made her question: were they truly lost?


	30. Chapter 30: At War

As soon as Hector and what little remained of his crew were off the Maria, Armando's scowl deepened. He watched them go to shore with a distrustful look in his cataract laden eyes. He limped away from the side of the ship, using his cane and sword as always in reliance to walk.

"Follow them," Armando commanded to which his crew sprung into action without question, "You cannot trust a pirate as far as you can throw him."

Armando was right and if Marcela knew Hector, he would betray them the moment he set foot on land. He hadn't changed at all despite his apology. Hector Barbossa had always lusted for power and with the Trident just beyond his grasp, she knew that he would seize the opportunity to ally himself with the living and attempt to take it for himself. She'd known the man for many years and if she was right, then he was still the same dirty pirate who betrayed her years ago.

Day had turned into night with the Maria tailing the Pearl. The crew had noted that another ship was also in their midst; and they flew the British flag. Armando scowled through the darkness. Somehow, the British had forced their own horse into this race. How they had caught wind of the trident was unsure. However they, too, tailed The Pearl.

"We must stop at nothing to find the Trident. They will only get in our way..." Marcela mused beside Armando. She hadn't dared to touch or speak to him since he'd dragged her back to The Maria. Her failed outing had brought her more shame than she had imagined it would when she first jumped overboard to seek out Sparrow and the girl. She surmised that it would take a long time to gain back Armando's trust- something that hadn't been easy to gain in the first place.

Armando said nothing in reply to her, but his sidelong glance told her that he was listening. And she was right. There were one too many parties taking place in this hunt. Even with their fastest ship, the British Navy could not outrun the Maria. She was poised to strike like an angry tarantula. Lightning struck as the storm raged around them. The Maria toppled over the British ship causing an explosion that lit up the sky. The Pearl became visible, and aboard was Henry, Carina, Jack, and of course Hector. Marcela ground her teeth irritably. They should have gutted the man when they had the chance.

But the one thing Marcela hadn't expected was for Armando to suddenly whip the ship to the left and ram it directly into the starboard side of The Pearl. She braced herself as the two ships collided. This whole thing was getting out of hand. She'd sought a life with Armando but with the way he was calling for Jack, she wondered if it was even possible.

"Defend yourselves men! To the death!" Hector's voice could be heard above all the commotion as the dead boarded The Black Pearl. Marcela was at a loss as to what to do. Her voice would do no good here as those she needed to beguile were beyond her powers. It was the dead that she needed to stop, not the living. Through all of this fighting, Marcela was somehow caught in the middle. She'd once thought that Armando embodied all that was good but this curse had warped him. Would he have been so driven on completing his vendetta alive? She would liked to have thought that he could move on. But she'd experienced the rage herself the first time she'd seen Hector again.

Marcela glanced around The Black Pearl hopelessly. She'd lost track of Armando and opted to find him later. Instead, she made her way to Carina who was at the helm; ducking under swords and fists as she wormed her way through the pugnacious crowd. Carina was going through her diary at the moment.

"This has to be it." Carina muttered to herself, gazing up at the stars.

"Carina, you must go. Please... You don't need Jack Sparrow to find the Trident. Find it before Armando does something he can never undo. Bestow unto us our humanity again." Marcela begged, helping to stave the fighting off away from the girl.

Carina seemed shocked for a moment, but nodded nonetheless. She wasn't sure that she fully understood what was happening here. This... this undead mermaid woman was somehow a neutral party in all this. She seemed to only want to live again, which Carina couldn't argue with; and if she had to guess, she was only tied to this due to her love of the undead Spaniard captain who pursued Jack.

"Have you found what you're looking for, Miss?!" Called a pirate in red.

"I'm trying! The stars will soon be gone..." Carina replied, her gaze fixed hopelessly on the night sky.

And suddenly through the mist, an island appeared. That had to be it.

Down below, Jack and Armando were in a duel that would end with one of them dead; or in Armando's case, even more dead than he already was. Armando swiped at him like an angry animal who had been backed into a corner. Jack had been trapped below him and attempted to scramble backwards with every slash of Armando's rapier. And then, Armando disarmed Jack... but something more important had happened.

"The island..." Jack murmured in astonishment. He could see it through a hole in the ship. The Black Pearl was going to run aground. All the dead retreated back to The Maria, all except Armando and Marcela. Armando made for the helm of The Black Pearl with a growl, causing Carina to let out a startled yell. Armando snatched up Henry and made for The Silent Mary just in time. Marcela aimed to do the same but just as she was about to make the jump and escape, The Black Pearl ran aground and something heavy knocked her down into the abyss. She was trapped at the bottom of the sea under a cannon.

A sense of despair filled the raven-haired siren as she struggled to free herself. How could she save Armando if she couldn't even save herself?


	31. Chapter 31: The Trident

If she had been alive, this surely would have hurt. Marcela could only imagine how many of her bones were crushed as she wiggled and wormed her way out from under that heavy piece of artillery. She could almost feel her guts squishing around inside her not unlike a tube of paint at the very end of its lifespan when the artist painstakingly forced the very last bit of crimson paint out.

Marcela started when she heard a loud roar accompanied by the quaking of the earth below her. She could see the ocean parting and revealing to them the mysteries of the depths; and the Trident. Carina had done it! She had managed to solve the puzzle and find the way to the Trident. But this only made Marcela's need to free herself more urgent. She could see Carina and Jack slip down the drop off down to the seabed.

Carina stood and looked around. It was dark and dripping with sea water and there were remnants of old shipwrecks strewn across the ocean floor. The sight would have taken her breath away had she time to really examine it. The walls of water towering around them roared leaving it difficult to hear much else. The young girl wandered past, not noticing Marcela just beyond that wall of water. Carina's eyes were instead trained on the Trident.

"Look..." Carina breathed to Jack. The expanse before them looked almost like a palace.

"Poseidon's Tomb..." Jack mused, following after her.

"This way!" Carina took off in the direction of the trident.

Little did Marcela know what Armando was planning, but she could guess. His moves had become uncharacteristically reckless as of late. It was again another thing she chalked up to the curse that plagued them. It seemed that a lot of things about them were changed by the curse. The cannon moved but only slightly. However, that was enough to give Marcela some hope. If she couldn't wiggle her way out then they didn't stand a chance.

"Capitán, you know the danger. Don't do it!" Lesaro objected to Armando. The crew stood in front of a bound Henry who could only guess what they had planned for him- but he knew it couldn't be good.

"He has no choice. Jack is on land going for the Trident." Commented Santiago. Armando gazed down for a moment, his dark hair floating in that ethereal way. He hadn't even noticed Marcela wasn't with him. All he could think about was his goal. All he could reason was that Jack Sparrow needed to die.

"Capitán, there has to be another way!" Lesaro's voice rang out once again. Armando turned sharply to face his lieutenant, "Once you possess the living there is no coming back. You will be trapped in his body forever." Lesaro worried for his captain. He worried for them all. It had become increasingly clear that day that they could all die for the final time. And then what would become of them? What would become of Antonio? Did the cursed ascend to heaven? Javier wasn't so sure and that scared the hell out of him.

"The Trident will set me free," Armando reasoned as he turned back to Henry. It was then that he willed what was left of his soul into Henry. It flew forth like ashes in the wind. Henry struggled but in the end he was powerless to stop Armando. The old captain was so much stronger than he was.

"Time to kill the Sparrow."

Meanwhile, Carina and Jack had finally reached the end of the winding hall that was Poseidon's Tomb. The Trident sat upright. It was old and green with moss. In the center was a faint orange light. It glowed with the warmth of a single candle in a window; bright enough to guide the way, but also inconspicuous. Carina and Jack gazed up at it in awe though it did seem a little bit of a let down at least for Jack. He would have expected a little bit more pageantry. Poseidon was a god after all.

"The Trident..." Jack watched as the glowing light seemed to flicker slightly.

All of them including Marcela were jarred slightly by a voice that rang out against the roar of the waves. Henry had been sprinting at them. He vaulted himself over a large rock right on top of Jack. Carina had only just dove out of the way in time as rapiers were drawn. Why was Henry attacking Jack?

Marcela watched on in surprise and mild trepidation. She knew that style with which Henry fought. It was uncannily like Armando's refined style. Not at all the way a boy Henry's age would know how to spar; his footwork was far too complicated. And then it hit her just as the crew hit the ocean floor around her. Armando had possessed Henry's body. This was not good.

She shoved harder with double the effort to free herself as Carina made for the Trident. Jack and Armando in the guise of Henry battled it out while Carina pushed with all her might to free the Trident from its barnacle-encrusted stand. It seemed that Armando was winning... until Jack got the jump on him. Armando bent backward as Jack sliced at Henry's face. But no matter. It wasn't his face nor was it his problem.

Armando wiped his face off and his eyes darkened. The same deep gashes appeared on Henry's face making it painfully obvious what had happened. Jack let out a nervous laugh as though he hadn't expected to get a shot in.

"You cut me, you cut the boy, Jack." Henry spoke... but it didn't sound like Henry. Jack yelled in response to this shocking revelation though Armando didn't leave him much time to comprehend what had happened before he attacked once more with just as much ferocity as before. It hadn't been hard for him to disarm Jack and send him running.

And then with a mighty cry, Carina kicked the Trident, sending it flying and catching everyone's attention. Armando had been just about to finish Jack off when a burst of sea water caught him off guard and sent him flying as well.

Marcela looked around for something, anything to help wedge under the cannon. Perhaps if she could get some leverage, she could create enough space to wiggle out. It was then that a grunt sounded and a strong hunk of wood presumably from the deck of a ship was thoroughly rammed up under the cannon. Marcela looked up to find none other than Antonio. If her heart had been beating, she was sure that it would have stopped.

Carina and Armando fought over the Trident. However, Armando was once again stronger and knocked the young girl on her back with the air knocked out of her lungs. There was a powerful ripple through the tomb and Henry's body fell to the side. Armando had been right, the Trident had freed him... and he had all the power he required to finally rid the seas of pirates, especially troublesome pirates named Jack Sparrow.

Armando peered around the Trident at where Jack was peeking over a large jagged rock. A smirk tugged at the corners of his blackened lips.

"Hola Sparrow..."


	32. Chapter 32: Humanity Restored

Marcela glanced up at Antonio with trepidation in her eyes. She needed more help, but was unsure as to where it was going to come from.

Antonio grunted and tried his best to lift the cannon or at least shift it somewhat... but his strength alone wasn't enough. They needed more. And time was running out.

Armando gazed up at the powerful Trident. He could practically feel it humming in his hands. He seemed to weight his options. It was clear that the Trident had power over water. That was when he got the idea. Armando turned the Trident on Jack and a powerful jet of water spurted forth. Armando chuckled, murmuring Jack's name over and over again as Jack let out a cry. He was knocked off the ground several feet back as he slammed into another rock.

Carina rushed over to the spot where Henry lay just feet away from the heavy cannon under which Marcela was trapped.

"Henry wake up! Please! He's walking on land! Henry!" Carina called, gently slapping the boy's face.

Things were getting bad and Marcela knew it. Armando seemed to be reveling in slamming Jack up against rocks in half attempts to drown him. That would come later. First, Armando wanted Jack Sparrow to suffer just as he did for all those years. Jack spun around and around the tomb screaming as he did all the while Armando watched, chuckling to himself.

"Henry wake up! He's killing Jack!" Carina begged, giving his face one last little slap just as his eyes opened.

"The power of the sea..." he murmured as he came to, gazing up at Carina.

"What?" Carina asked.

"The power of the sea..." Henry repeated, looking around at his surroundings. He had to wonder how he'd gotten there and where exactly there was. The last thing he'd remembered, he'd been aboard the ship with the undead. And there he was on the ocean floor. He felt tired and his body felt a little bit broken though he had no idea what he'd been through or how much time had passed since Salazar took over his body.

"To release the power of the sea... one must divide." Carina completed the riddle for him. She was wracking her brain for something- anything that might tell her what they needed to do in order to stop this. Killing Salazar was out of the question as well... he was already dead and Marcela would never forgive them. And then it came to her.

"If The Trident holds all the power then..."

"Then every curse is held inside." Henry finished for her. That had to be it.

"As I told you before; surrender and I'll let you live." Jack said as he picked himself up off the ground and dusted his tricorn hat off and placing it back in its rightful position.

"You want me to surrender?" Armando asked, slowly pacing his way over to Jack not unlike a jaguar would its hapless prey.

"Maybe." Jack replied with some uncertainty in his voice. Just then, Armando lifted The Trident up and pierced its sharp jagged end right into Jack's chest- or so he thought. It caught on Carina's journal which he'd picked up moments before. Time was running out.

"Divide... Break The Trident and it'll break every curse at sea!" Henry and Carina shouted in unison. They took off in the direction of Armando and Jack.

Marcela watched all this come to fruition. She needed more help. Javier alone wasn't going to be enough to save her. She looked around frantically at the crew, some of whom seemed to be more interested in the battle going on in the tomb than saving themselves.

And then the weight that crushed her was suddenly lifted from her decrepit body. It was Javier! Marcela's brows knit together. He'd tried to kill her, and now he was trying to save her. It made her wonder what caused his change of heart.

She shot free of the crushing weight just as Henry pulled his sword out and with one mighty strike, broke The Trident in two. Another powerful ripple was felt throughout the tomb, knocking those that were in it nearly off their feet.

Armando stumbled forward gasping for breath as the world slowed around him. What was happening? The crew members who stood on the sidelines suddenly found their lungs were screaming for air.

Marcela could feel it, too. It was as though she were a sponge soaking up life. No longer was her skin grey with decay nor did her abdomen constantly drip thick tar-like blood. She felt alive once again. With the crew, she shot out of the wall of water and into the tomb, dragging herself forward to embrace the man she loved.

Armando was doubled over, gasping for air just as she reached him. The strong cracks on his face receded and his skin was smooth and supple again with that handsome tan that Marcela had come to love. He touched his face, eyes wide with the realization that they'd finally become human again.

As her scales receded, Marcela stood on wobbly legs to join them in their cries of joy. She felt hunger and thirst and tired but had never been more happy to just feel than she ever had before. Everything felt so foreign to her from the wind on her face to the rhythmic drumming of her heart within her chest. They hadn't noticed yet how the walls of the tomb were beginning to close in on them until it was too late.

"Armando, Armando we must go! Now!" Marcela cried, tugging at his arm.

Their salvation appeared in the form of an anchor with the last man on Earth that Marcela wanted to see: Hector Barbossa. She had to get them on that anchor or at least try. There was no way that she could save everyone unless she did.

"The Pearl! My Pearl!" Jack exclaimed happily. Up at the water's surface just at the edge of the rapidly closing wall of water sailed The Black Pearl. Marcela never thought she'd be happier to see a pirate ship.

Armando didn't appear to be listening to her. He turned and exclaimed as Jack, Carina, and Henry began to climb onto the anchor. "Jack!" He cried as he ran after him. Marcela felt her stomach drop. After all this, he was still hungry for revenge.

"Armando no!" Please! We've gotten what we wanted! Isn't that enough!" She cried, stumbling after him. The coral and sharp rocks at the sea bed hurt her bare feet, leaving a trail of blood behind her. It almost made her wish she was dead again. It would have been easier to catch up with him.

Armando stopped briefly and turned his head to look at her for just a moment before he turned and advanced on Jack once more. Marcela pushed herself onward. There were still lives to be saved. The anchor started to ascend as Armando grabbed a hold of it and hoisted himself up. The crew ran after him, begging him to help them however Armando turned from them. He had his eyes on the sparrow.

There had to be a way. Marcela was about to break down when she realized that she could use the water to her advantage. With that, she sprinted toward the wall and swam as quickly as she could. She was losing time and if she didn't get him, Armando would seal his own fate.

They all climbed, desperate to reach The Pearl before the water closed in on them. The anchor suddenly dropped down. They must have lost control. This was good. Marcela was gaining hope that she would reach Armando in time. Carina had fallen only to be caught by Hector, but none of that mattered to Marcela. Carina was her friend... but Armando was the love of her life... and he was still going after Jack Sparrow.

She watched them fall as she propelled herself out of the water. It all happened in a blur. She could feel her body crash into Armando's and then a sharp pain in her back as though she'd been stabbed. Marcela gasped in pain as they flew through the air. She watched Hector fall with her arms wrapped securely around Armando. This was the last time she'd see Hector Barbossa and for that she was grateful.

They surfaced but Marcela had no time to wait around. She laid Armando on the island which was studded with bright jewels like the night sky. He'd hit his head and fallen unconscious. Marcela stayed just long enough to make sure he was still breathing before she dove back down with the speed of a torpedo. There was no way she could save them all and for that, her heart ached... but she could save some of the men she'd come to think of as family and that was better than none. With her first trip, she grabbed Santos and Antonio and then diving back down once more, she managed to bring Javier and Magda back up to the surface which surprised her. Marcela had often thought to herself that if she had been given the opportunity, she would have let Javier Lesaro die... but she couldn't bring herself to. He wasn't her friend and Marcela definitely still didn't like him very much, but maybe he didn't deserve to die after all.

An aching had settled into her muscles once it was all said and done. Her back throbbed with a deep pain. Marcela reached back and felt the hilt of a sword sticking out. It seemed Hector had managed to stab her in the back one last time before he died. She dragged herself up onto the island to where Armando lay slightly bloodied. She smiled sadly and gently kissed his temple, running her spindly fingers through his dampened ebony locks one last time before she withdrew.

The crew looked on in shock as Marcela made her way back into the ocean. A warm familiar hand caught her arm just as she was about to leave. Marcela's eyes welled up as she knew it was Antonio; her only friend.

"You can't leave. He needs you. We need you..." He begged urgently.

Marcela had no words for him. Perhaps she'd known it for a long time but hadn't wanted to face the reality of the situation. Revenge had infiltrated the man she loved and turned him into something she no longer recognized. Perhaps it wasn't the curse that made him this way... maybe Armando Salazar wasn't who she thought he was. And that was why she needed to leave because Marcela knew the moment he woke up, if she were still there, she wouldn't have the heart to go.

"Tell him... tell him I love him. Tell him I died. Don't look for me..." Marcela fought back sobs. Her heart was breaking into smaller pieces than she ever thought possible. And so she disappeared into the depths.


End file.
